The Sands of Neverland
by ThunderWorks
Summary: Follow the first-hand account of 22 year-old, Sid Alton, who is pulled into the dangers and adventures of Neverland. He soon realizes that this is not the Neverland he thought he knew and becomes entangled in a war that has been raging for a century. Winter does not have an Icy hand, he has a Iron Hook.
1. Like a Ghost Story

**Like a Ghost Story**

I woke up, heart racing and gasping for breath.

Again.

This wasn't the first time I had woken up in the middle of the night due to a nightmare, and it's a feeling one can never really get used to. I didn't remember the dream this time; I just knew I had one, and that whatever it was about, it really scared me good. I shook my hair away from my face and laid down again to try to go back to sleep. Just moments after I closed my eyes, I heard light footsteps moving across the carpet in my room. When I heard the footsteps get closer to my bed I immediately sat up again.

Nothing there.

'_I need to stop scaring myself,_' I thought.

I couldn't for the life of me, shake the feeling of being watched though. I did another scan of my room, this time using the flashlight on my iPod for light, and again came up with nothing. Well, except for the shadow up against my closet door, but I didn't think much of it, figuring it was just because of the street lamp outside my window, and I tried once more to go back to sleep. A few minutes later, I began to hear the footsteps again, and again, I sat up and looked around but saw nothing. This time I reached over and turned on my lamp. As expected, my room was empty. I turned the light off and tried to get back to sleep as now I was starting to get agitated. My eyes were closed for no longer than a minute before I started to hear creaking on the floor again. Frustrated at this point I sat up and yelled,

"Look, if you're gonna scare me, fucking do it already!"

The light bulb in my lamp suddenly burst, lighting up my room with a white flash and my closet door slid open so hard it nearly bounced off its track when it slammed into the wall. Outside my room, I heard every door in the hallway slam shut, one after another, and upstairs in the kitchen something fell over and shattered, followed by the faint giggling of several children from somewhere in the house.

"Okay," I breathed, "I'm scared now..."


	2. Shadows

Shadows

For years I had always said that the Jersey shore was a lot like Neverland; time seemed to pass differently here. The moment you drove across the bridge and onto the island, there was something that just instantly made you feel like you were a kid again. Summer never seemed to have an end in sight; you assured yourself it would last forever. You were never 'too old' to do something and you often felt like you had enough energy to take on the world. Whether it was something in the air, or just the 'vibe' that floated around this place, you were taken back to a different time. A time of doo-wop diners, and pink Cadillacs. Irish pubs and ice cream shops. Sea monsters that rose high above the boardwalk, and fierce pirates that searched for treasure on Sunset Lake. During the day roller coasters roared over head, and in the evening, the island settled down with live music and locally brewed beer. Every day was a holiday and every night really felt like Saturday night.

Until winter.

There's no cars on the streets, no one walking around and most of the houses stayed dark at night. It's only a small, brave few that live down the shore year round. During the off season months, like December, the shore slows down, a lot. It's literally a ghost town here in Stone Harbor.

I live in a town house down the shore. This place used to be used as a summer rental home years ago, so its five bedrooms is a little much for just me. I do what I can to stay out of the house; usually I'm at work, which means I'm on a fishing boat for 12 hours, or I'm out keeping myself busy either by myself or with friends. I'm only a five minute drive from Wildwood, and there's always something to do there. It's not so much that things 'died' here in the winter, they just changed. Summer nights were always fast paced and exciting, but once winter hit, they were calm and quiet. Except for me it seemed.

Now, I'm not going to say that my house is _haunted_ so to say, but ever since I was little I had some strange things happen to me, and when I moved into this townhouse, these strange things got a lot stranger. Footsteps walking around the house, shadows darting across the walls and faint laughter of children floated around in the empty rooms. I'll never forget the night I woke up and saw a shadow, shaped like a man standing over my bed, watching me, before calmly walking over to my closet and passing through the doors. There was one period of time, a few years ago, where for about two weeks people told me they saw a little glowing ball of light darting around on the ceiling or zipping behind the couch or a chair. We never found out where the light came from and after those two weeks, we never saw it, or anything like it, again.

There was another incident where I was getting ready to go sleep and just so happened to look up at my bedroom door. Standing in the doorway was this little boy. No older than 5 or 6, he was dressed in all black Victorian era clothing and had dark shaggy hair that covered his eyes. His skin was pale, with a redness around his eyes and his little round face had a grim expression. We just stared at each other in complete silence for a few moments until suddenly the boy ran into my room and dove under my bed. Not only did I not sleep at all that night, but the following morning, there was no trace of that little boy anywhere.

These are just little ghost stories compared to the real story I have for you. It's strange, and I can almost guarantee that no one reading this will ever believe me, I could hardly believe it myself. But sometimes reality is stranger than anything our imaginations could ever come up with.

It was December 13th, 2012, only a week before Christmas, and well close to midnight is when my story starts.

I had just gotten home from work, got a quick shower and was on my way out of the door for a dinner run to Wawa just a few blocks down the street towards the centre of town. I zipped up my leather jacket and adjusted my hat to make sure it didn't blow away. The streets were quiet, just the wind played between the houses and sometimes you could hear the waves of the ocean just a few blocks down. I know I could easily just stop at one of the two Wawa's on my drive home, but I liked walking. Aside from getting out of the house for an hour, this was my 'me time'.

96th Street was all lit up with Christmas lights strung through the trees and the shops were decorated for the season. It felt like an ordinary walk accompanied by a light drizzle, a cold breeze and a fresh cup of Wawa's pumpkin spice coffee to keep me warm.

It was on my walk back that I found myself getting the urge to turn around and look behind me. I knew I was the only person outside that time of night, but I just couldn't shake the feeling of being followed. Once I got to the next intersection I gave in and turned around. At first I didn't notice anything, but then about two blocks down the street I saw a little girl in a plain black knee-length dress and white knee high socks standing at the street corner staring back at me. She didn't wave, or smile, she didn't even turn away from me, but just kept staring at me with her hands folded properly in front of her.

"Hello?" I shouted over to her; she didn't seem upset or lost or anything, but a little girl no older than seven standing around outside in the cold rain isn't exactly normal. "You okay?"

She didn't respond. The wind blowing her neatly trimmed black hair across her nose was the only thing about her that actually moved. I shrugged and continued on, trying not to think too much of it.

Dec. 14th

I was up in the kitchen making lunch and noticed something out front. I looked out the window and saw someone, dressed in all black standing in my driveway. I quickly ducked behind a curtain and rushed over to find my digital camera. I knelt down behind the window sill and used the zoom on the camera to see who was outside, it certainly wasn't normal for someone to just be standing in my driveway. When I zoomed in, I saw that it was the same little girl that I saw the night before. I remember thinking to myself '_this is really odd, what does this girl want?'_. She didn't appear to be snooping around, or even damaging anything, she just stood there. I watched her for a several minutes before she finally looked up, directly at me. I know I was out of view, and my camera was pretty well camouflaged in with the curtains, I don't know how she knew to look up this way. But that was when I noticed something off about her, her solid coal black eyes. As soon as I noticed that I gasped and dropped the camera. I rushed downstairs to lock the front door and made sure all the bedroom windows were locked. When I got to my room, which was at the front of the house right next to the driveway, I noticed she was nowhere in sight. Rather than going outside through the front door, I went back upstairs and stood out on the balcony to look around, if she was hiding I would have seen her, but she was nowhere to be found.

Sleep did not come easy to me that night as the 'activity' in the house increased with the constant patter of footsteps running around upstairs and distant giggling of children echoed through the house. The next morning I found several things had been moved out of place and some of my food eaten, but nothing was damaged.

Dec. 16th

Before I left for work that morning I brought my laptop upstairs to the family room and set up the webcam to take pictures every 5 seconds in the hopes of catching something, but when I got home that evening and watched the camera, nothing happened. So I set it up again that night and in a way, hoped that I didn't see anything.

Dec.17th

I checked my laptop the next morning. At first the pictures showing up showed nothing out of the ordinary, then a little after 1am something caught my attention. I saw one of the cabinet doors under my sink start to move. Slowly, the door swung open and a little girl, the same little girl in the black dress crawled out from under my sink. My mouth fell open and I hadn't noticed that I stopped breathing for a few seconds. She, almost robotically, stood up, smoothed her dress out and started walking around my kitchen before noticing my laptop on the family room table. She walked over to it and stared at it, tilting her head and trying to figure out what it was. Her eyes looked more like solid black pits and her expression never changed. She soon got tired of my laptop and walked back into the kitchen, took a sandwich out of my refrigerator and crawled back underneath my sink.

After the video stopped, I turned my head, wide eyed, and stared at the cabinet doors. I decided to get in touch with one of my friends , I wasn't going to tackle this alone.

That night I brought over a friend of mine from work; her name is Nell, she lives just a few minutes away from me over in Court House. On the drive back to my place we talked about a few of our other friends at work and how we miss the summer time. Nell was well familiar with the strange events happening at my house and how over the last month and a half have gotten progressively worse

I showed her the pictures my laptop took and right as she saw the girl climb out from under my sink she clapped her hands over her mouth.

"Sid, this isn't real..."

"It's real."

"Oh my God..."

"This was last night, Nell."

"Is she still there?"

We looked at each other, then over at the cabinet,

"I haven't checked..."

Nell grabbed my camera and we both sneaked over to the kitchen. We both felt it best to arm ourselves with large cooking spoons before closing in on the cabinet. I hovered my hand in front of the door and looked back up at Nell,

"You recording this?"

"Yeah."

"Okay good. 'Cause if we get any crazy ghost shit on camera, it's going on the internet."

I moved my hand closer to the door, grabbed the handle and looked back up at Nell. She gave me three slow nods and on the third one I quickly opened the door.

The cabinet was empty.

"How the hell did she get out?"

"I don't know," I stuck my head in the cabinet and looked around. There was no holes or anything that could have lead to outside. All that was in there was a half empty bottle of window cleaner and some dish rags, but even among those things, nothing was disturbed.

Nell turned the camera off, "Could she have gotten out and be somewhere else in the house?"

"I freaking hope not..."

The both of us did a quick run through of the house, Nell took the bedrooms on the bottom floor and I took the bedrooms up on the third floor. We checked under every bed, and in every closet, but couldn't find any trace of this girl. We decided we weren't going to let it ruin our evening, and with the house thoroughly searched with no unwelcome guests, we settled down on the couch in the family room and started our movie night. It was probably a bad time to watch a movie about demonic possession, but it was really the only thing we felt like watching at the time. The pictures had us both a little freaked out and every now and then either her or I would turn around to make sure no one was crawling out of my kitchen cabinets, and after a while we even found ourselves joking about it. I felt Nell give me a shove,

"Yo, don't grab my hair!"

"What are you talking about? I didn't grab your hair."

"I just felt something pull my hair."

"My hands are right here, I didn't touch you."

Her voice trailed off, "That was weird..."

"Did it get caught behind the couch or something?" My couch is right up against the wall, I figured maybe her ponytail got caught.

"No... That's weird I could have sworn I felt something."

A few minutes later she shoved me again, "What the hell?!"

"What?"

"I felt it again!"

"Well it wasn't me!"

Nell looked behind her, there was literally nothing she could have gotten her hair caught in. "It keeps feeling like someone's pulling my hair. It doesn't hurt, it's just like this," and she gave my hair a light tug.

"I don't know Nell, you sure you're not imagining it?"

"Doubt it..."

About half way through the movie Nell nudges me in the arm,

"Do you have any soda?"

"I don't think so, I never drink soda. I just stocked up on iced tea though."

"Even better!" She got up and whipped around the side of the couch, "You want anything, Sid?"

"Uhh... Sure, whatever you're getting."

"Okay!"

I didn't see what happened next. I heard the refrigerator door open and suddenly Nell let out this blood curdling scream, and I don't use that term lightly. I quickly jumped up from the couch and saw Nell kneeling on the floor with both of her hands gripping her scalp and a clump of her hair on the floor. I ran over to her and saw that she had a bit of blood pooling up in her hair.

"Something grabbed me!"

"Nell, you're bleeding!"

"I am!"

"It's not too bad, hold on."

I helped her up and walked her back over to the couch, both of us were so spooked it was a wonder either of us could walk straight.

"What the hell was that, Sid?"

"Hold on, I have some towels upstairs in the bathroom, I'll be right back." I ran upstairs to the bathroom to get some tissues.

From back down in the family room I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs and Nell start to call for me, her voice was really weak at first, but then became more panicked

"Sid... Sid... SID... SIDNEY! SIDNEY! GET DOWN HERE! SID!"

I grabbed a box of tissues and rushed back down stairs, Nell was curled up in a ball at the corner of the couch, literally shaking. It weirded me out a bit because I heard the footsteps too, and I actually thought it was Nell following me.

"What happened, what's wrong?"

She pointed behind me,

"I saw something..." she whispered.

"What?"

"A shadow..." tears started to roll down her face and even her whispers were barely audible. "A shadow followed you up the stairs...it wasn't yours...It walked away from the wall... and followed you up the stairs..."

That must have been the footsteps I heard. I looked back over my shoulder towards the stairs, but nothing was there, then back at Nell was still clearly distraught by all of this.

"Okay... Um... Let's...Let's go to your house..."

She nodded, "Okay..."

"We're gonna go to your house..."

"Okay..." She got up off the couch and turned the TV off, I went over to the kitchen counter and grabbed my coat and car keys and we were out of there in less than a minute. As we pulled out of my driveway I just so happened to look back up at the family room window and saw a silhouette of a little girl and a little boy walk passed the curtains. I stomped on the gas pedal and got out of there was fast as my little Buick could go.

When I got Nell home, I helped her clean the blood out of her hair. Whatever had pulled her hair pulled hard enough that her scalp started to bleed.

"Sid you can stay at my place for the night, and head back tomorrow morning."

"I wish I could, but I need to see who's in my house. I saw another kid in there as we were leaving."

"I don't get it, how did they get inside and get passed us? We would have seen them."

"It is a big house for just two people, Nell, they were probably hiding downstairs."

"I checked _everywhere_ downstairs. I didn't see anything. I don't think you have intruders, Sid, I think you have ghosts."

"God, I don't even want to think about that..." I'll admit, if there's one thing that scares the crap out of me it's ghosts, I know, I'm a wimp. "Either way, I gotta go back and see what's going on."

"Give me a few minutes and I'll come with you, but I'll take my car."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm not letting you go back there by yourself."

I wasn't going to tell her 'no'. Instead I just told her to drive over when she was ready. She had to wash her hair out and change her shirt, since it got blood on it, before she was going to start heading back over.

When I pulled back up to the house, all the lights were still on, just as we had left them, however, I didn't see any sign of movement in any of the windows. As soon as I got inside I turned the hallway light on and right away started going upstairs to the kitchen. I put my keys on the counter and was just getting ready to take my jacket off when I heard a noise. I paused and listened for it again; it sounded like someone was tapping their finger nails against the refrigerator. I heard the series of taps for a second, then a third time and I started to move closer, my hand reaching out to the door handle. I was an inch away from the door when a loud bang from inside startled me and I jumped back and almost fell into the counter behind me. I closed my eyes and sighed,

"I _hate_ that ice cube maker…"

I was already on edge as it was, I didn't need the ice cube machine making things worse. I gave the refrigerator a disgusted glare like it did something wrong and headed into the other room. I felt a cold draft blow past me as I walked by and stopped.

'_I know the windows aren't open..._' It felt like a breeze from outside, but stronger. I checked the windows and all three in the family room were closed, and the balcony door was shut and locked. I knew it couldn't have been the heater, the one vent in that room is up on the ceiling and certainly isn't strong enough to create a wind like that. It wasn't just a breeze, it was a thick gust, like I walked _through_ something. I stopped and looked around and over my couch there was a shadow.

To make sure I wasn't just losing my mind, I leaned to one side, and the shadow did the same, I moved my arm and the shadow did the same. I thought it may have just been my already overactive imagination until I brushed my hair out of my face and noticed that the shadow didn't move.

"Ha! Caught you."

And then it started.

I heard a loud bang from down stairs and jumped.

'_That wasn't the wind,_' I thought, '_There's no way that could have been the wind,_' Just as I was about to go downstairs to check it out, I heard a second bang. It was one of the bedroom doors slamming.

Then I heard the third.

Then the fourth.

Then the fifth.

It started with the back bedroom, then made its way around to the front of the house. Needless to say I didn't go downstairs, and instead tried to sneak back into the kitchen to grab my phone and call Nell to see where she was. But when I turned around, I noticed that the shadow that was once behind the couch was now in the corner of the kitchen, right next to my phone.

"I'm getting out of here..."

I took a deep breath and just as I was about to dart down the stairs, the shadow stepped away from the wall. It was no longer a 2-dimentional shadow; but a 3-dimentional being standing in the room.

I did the only thing I thought to do, I turned tail and ran. Unfortunately, I didn't think of _where_ I was going and instead ran upstairs to the third floor. I heard the shadow's heavy footsteps pounding on the stairs after me. It sounded more like I was being chased by an actual person than a 'shadow'. I ran into the upstairs bedroom and slammed the door, keeping my back pressed against it. There was a single heavy bang that almost knocked me over, which was then followed by a series of bangs against the door that first started at the top, then made their way down to the bottom. Clearly freaked out and not thinking, I jumped away from that door and rushed over to the sliding door that leads to the third floor balcony.

I got outside and slammed that door shut too. I was now stuck on the balcony of a three-floor house and there was a shadow, back inside, trying to kill me. I've had better evenings.

I did however, have access to the roof from where I was. So I figured I'd be able to climb up there and over to our neighbour's balcony and get help. I took a few steps back towards the roof, keeping my eye on the door to make sure the shadow wasn't coming out after me. I was just about to turn to climb up when I felt two hands grab me, one covered my mouth, and the other covered my eyes. Everything went black, everything went quiet, and that was my last memory of home.


	3. Getting Lost

Getting Lost

When I opened my eyes, I was staring up at the tops of trees that stood high in front of an orange sky background. I wasn't at home anymore, but was in a clearing in the middle of a dense forest. I stood up and looked around, there were no clear paths that led out of the clearing and no one around me; I was all alone. It actually would have been quite a relaxing little spot if I wasn't dumped there against my will and with no knowledge of where I was or how I got there.

The air was crisp and cold and the few trees that still had leaves on them were showing off their red and gold foliage. A few of the trees that surrounded the clearing had large holes cut out of the insides of them and each time I looked at one, I got the feeling that something was looking back out at me. Feeling like I was being watched from all angles made me really uncomfortable. Inside the circle of trees was a collection of stones, arranged in pairs with each other, they didn't create any shape or design, rather it seemed more like they were randomly placed; however no stone was left by itself, each one had a 'companion'.

I didn't have a lot of time to find a shelter for the night, the sun was setting quickly, and once it did I'd have no way of finding my way around at all until morning; and that's if I made it to the next morning. My options were to stay in this clearing where I was left and probably die, or go out and get lost in the woods and probably die. I figured that if I went out in the woods at least it shows I made an effort.

As I walked over to the edge of the clearing I felt around in my pockets for my cell phone to use as a light even though I knew that I left it back home, it was just a habit. Shadows stretched across the forest floor and quickly grew as the sun went down,

'_Yep, I'm gonna die,_' I thought and made my first step into the forest.

There was no trail made on the ground, it was all just covered in leaves, but the trees made some sort of a path I could follow and use as land marks. There were no lights in the distance to guide me anywhere, and I had no idea where I was, all I could do was to keep walking.

About twenty minutes into the forest, the sky was now a dark purple and it was getting harder and harder to see and the feeling of being watched came back. I stopped for a moment and looked around,

'_I really need to stop scaring myself,_' I looked around behind me and froze. I wasn't scaring myself, this time I had good reason to be scared.

A tree had fallen behind me blocking the path I had just come from. I know for certain that tree was _not_ there a minute ago. This wasn't a small tree either; it was a full grown 50ft tree that was now laying in the middle of my path, blocking me from turning around. There was no way a tree could have fallen down right behind me and I didn't hear it, I didn't hear anything. I peered over the tree and saw about twenty yards down there was _another_ tree that was lying on its side and blocking the path.

It only took a quiet rustle of a nearby bush to make me leap over the tree and start sprinting. I didn't know what was behind me, I didn't know what moved these trees, but I didn't want to find out. I pushed myself over the second tree and continued on down the path. I could see the clearing through the trees, but there were a few new things this time. At the end of the path was a large archway made from woven branches and vines. That could have been there when I first came in, and just never noticed, I don't know, but it was the second thing that really bothered me; a stag's head impaled on a stick. _That_ I know was not there when I came in. The sight took me by surprise and I slipped on a patch of fallen leaves and fell on the ground. The stag head was skinned on the left side and blood dripped down the sides of the skull and stick; this was a fresh kill. I slowly stood up and inched passed the head like it was going to jump out at me. I gave one last glance into the forest to make sure nothing was behind me, and after seeing I was clear, I darted out of the woods and back into the clearing.

As the evening progressed, the temperature began to drop and the breeze went from a quiet sigh to chilling gusts. Even though I had a jacket on, it was a light one so I kept my arms close to me to keep them warm. I couldn't help but jump every time I heard a twig snap or a bush rustle, I was so on edge, every little noise caught my attention. I sat down in the middle of the clearing next to one of the hollowed out trees. The sun was going down fast and I knew it was only a matter of minutes before the entire forest was pitch black.

I honestly had it in my head that I was going to die out there, in the middle of nowhere, by myself and no one would ever know what happened to me. Kind of a crappy way to go, but what are you going to do? I tried to fit myself behind the tree as best as I could, to try to get out of the wind, but it didn't help that much and I wondered why I even bothered trying to move. When I rested my head against the tree I could hear faint laughter from deep down inside. I sat back up and stared at the tree, as if it said something to me. Laughter from inside a tree?

'_Is someone down there?_'

I leaned in closer and listened again, it was indeed laughter and voices of children. I couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, but they were speaking clear enough that I knew they were at least speaking in English, in fact some of them even had distinct accents I could pick out. Suddenly, one of the voices started to hush the rest of them and everything quieted down. Maybe they were going to sleep. I heard a girl's voice say 'I'll go check' followed by some sort of shuffling sound from inside the tree. The shuffling stopped and I pressed my ear as hard against the tree as I could, somehow thinking this would help me hear better, but everything inside was silent.

"That's really odd..." I said to myself.

I felt the hair on the back of my neck start to stand up. Initially I thought it was just the wind again, until I felt two fingers poke into my sides and someone from behind me yell "BOO!"

I don't remember what four letter word I screamed, but I know I screamed it loud. A hand clapped over my mouth and pulled me back,

"Oh my God! Suddup, shuddup, shuddup!" I tried to pull away but this person twisted around me and shoved my back into the tree, her hand still over my mouth, as she hushed me. I found myself staring into these two ocean blue eyes just inches away from me. Her wavy brown hair blew across her face and a few strands stuck to her lower lip. She looked as shocked as I was. Her hand lowered from my mouth as she slowly stepped away from me. She looked to be about my age, and was dressed in black jeans and a white cotton 'pirate' shirt with a deep neckline and flowing sleeves.

"Holy crap..." She said, she had a slight Southern accent. "Didn't think you were gonna get scared like that!" She started to smile.

"I wasn't scared... You startled me, that's all."

She covered her mouth with her hand and giggled, "_Mhmm, sure_. We heard someone up here and Peter sent me to go see who it was. Wasn't expectin' another kid."

I shrugged, "I wasn't expecting another kid either," and we both laughed with relief.

"So where ya from? Ya'll don't sound like you're from around here."

"Why, am I in Virginia?"

Her smile grew wider and she giggled again, "_I'm_ from Virginia."

"No way, where at?"

"New Port News."

I held my hand out for her, "Stone Harbor, New Jersey. Nice to... not be killed by you. So where am I? You clearly don't seem as freaked out as I am about this place."

"Here, follow me. We'll get ya inside and explain everything. It's not good to be out here at night. Don't want the Wolf to come get ya. Oh, and by the way," she looked back at me over her shoulder, "My name's Kat."

"Sid."

"Sid? Like Sidney? I thought 'Sidney' was a girl's name?"

I sighed, "No, it's a boy's name, it's just lately a lot of girls have the name, but they spell it SY, mine's spelt SI. Think of Sid Vicious."

"Oh that's cool! A lot cooler than 'Kaitlin' anyway."

"I like 'Kaitlin'."

"Too bad I go by Kat."

"I like Kat too."

She gave me a sly smile. "You like to push it, don't ya, _Jersey_ boy?"

"Yes."

She started laughing again, "Come on, follow me, we'll get ya inside."

Kat walked around to the other side of the tree with the big hole cut out of it.

"It's just like a slide," she said. She put her hands on the sides of the tree, ducked in and as soon as she let go, disappeared down inside the tree. I poked my head in, at the bottom I could see a faintly glowing light and heard voices from down inside,

"Come on Sid!" Kat called out to me. The voices of a few children called out as well, wanting me to come down.

"Okay, hold on! It's been a while since I've done the slide thing." I held on to the outside of the tree, like Kat, and tried to fit myself inside. There was nothing inside to step on, so this slide just went straight down at first. What I wanted to do was press myself against the inside of the tree and ease my way down, however when I tried to get my hands inside, I slipped and fell down the slide. Luckily I was on my back, however landing on my tailbone didn't feel so good.

"Wasn't so hard was it?" Kat giggled.

I opened my eyes, I was laying on my back at the bottom of the slide. It took me to this large open room deep down under ground. The walls were covered with tree roots and roughly made wooden shelves that held things like clay bowls and lanterns. Deer skulls hung from the walls as well, their antlers decorated with hanging beads and lit candles. The dirt floor was covered with several mats made from either dried grass or animal skins and sitting in the centre of the room was a group of children, all looking to be between the ages of 4 and 10. They all began to scoot in closer to Kat and I, curious to see who I was.

"Hey Trinket, found you 'monster'." Kat joked. One of the children, a 4-year-old girl who was dressed in all green looked up at her. Kat leaned over to me, "That's Trinket, she's pretty skittish, but she's good at keeping an eye out for danger."

Kat turned to the group of kids, "Hey y'all, this is Sid. I found him wondering around outside, this is the 'monster' that Trinket thought she heard. Not sure when he got here... Hey Sid, how long have you been in Neverland?"

This question took me by surprise. Is _that_ where I was? I had always pictured Neverland to be a tropical island, not a cold, wintery forest. I shrugged,

"I dunno like... thirty minutes?" I guess they were expecting me to have been there longer.

"Really?" Kat said, "so you like, literally _just_ got here."

"Pretty much, yeah."

"I forget how long I've been here..." one of the kids said.

"Me too!" another jumped in.

"I've been here for a 100 years! Or over that! I can't remember." the oldest looking boy of the bunch said as he stood up and placed his fists on his sides. He had tangled red-auburn hair and a few freckles spotted his nose. His clothes were made from pieces of leather sewn together and covered with green leaves, they were only a pair of shorts and a sleeveless shirt and on his leather belt hung a decent sized dagger.

"Well obviously, Peter," Kat smiled and rolled her eyes.

"I just wanted to tell the new one." Peter grinned a sly, elfish grin.

"Wait... Peter? Peter Pan?"

The kid took a bow before me.

"No... No way...This isn't happening..."

Kat laughed, "Yeah, it's happening."

I looked around the tree house, the wheels finally starting to turn in my head, this was real. In a million years you'd never think that something like this could happen, but there I was. This was all real.

"So, NewOne" Peter asked bringing my attention back to him, "What kinda things you like?"

I thought this was an odd question, but right away, all the kids perked up, and inched closer. Why they were so interested in me, I don't know.

I shrugged, "Uh, I don't know... fishing?"

"_Boring!_" Peter yelled, "What else?"

"Uh... Water ice?" This _really_ seemed to get the kid's attention.

"What's wooder ice?" one of the kids asked, copying my Philly accent. I actually thought it was kind of funny and laughed,

"Water ice is like... shavings of ice mixed with fruit juice." I've eaten water ice my whole life, it never really occurred to me how to explain it to someone because everyone I grew up with knew what it was. The kid's eyes all lit up at the sound of this.

"Like ice cream?!"

"Yeah... kinda like ice cream, but more fruity."

A slow, collective 'whoa' emanated from the group of children.

"What else?" another one asked.

"Uh..." I just didn't know what to say, it wasn't every day I had to explain my interests to people. "I'm kind of a history nerd...I'm really big into pirates..."

All the kids gasped and quick as a flash Peter drew his dagger on me and pinned me against the back wall with it,

"You're a pirate!"

"What? No!"

"You said you liked pirates!"

"Okay, I don't like pirates, holy crap, don't kill me!"

"Well how do we know you're not a pirate?"

One of the other kids spoke up, "He's got long hair like a pirate!"

I yelled right in Peter's face, "I'm _not_ a pirate!"

"Yeah!" He yelled back, "Prove it!"

"I still laugh at fart jokes!" Everything in the room stopped. "does...that...count?" I had no idea _why_ that was the first thing that came to mind, but it was.

Right away, Peter's attitude changed back and he slid his dagger back into its leather sheath, "Oh, alright then! I guess that counts."

I didn't move, but instead shifted my eyes over to Kat, who seemed just as surprised at Peter's outburst as I was.

"Because we don't like pirates here," Peter continued, "we kill them."

"They're fun to kill!" another little boy yelled out.

A third boy called out, "Ooh, ooh guys! One time I killed a pirate...and, and... I popped his eyes out with my finger...and... it was funny... 'cause his eyeballs went 'POP!' and jelly came out!"

"You have jelly in your eyeballs? Cool!" another kid spoke up.

All the kids started to laugh at this; myself however, I was a little disturbed hearing about kids squeezing 'jelly' out of someone's eyeball.

"Alright then NewOne, since you're not a pirate and you're gonna stay here with us, this is your new family!" Peter pointed at each of the kids, going down the line, introducing each of them to me.

Trinket was the youngest, only just turning 4 fairly recently. Her pink knee-length dress was dirty and torn apart at the bottom hem and her dirty blond hair was shaped in a bob cut.

Penn was next, he was an eight year old from the West End in London. His appearance was more representative of the time period he grew up in; his dark knee breeches were torn and patched and his white, button up shirt had been stained a tea-brown colour from dirt.

Then there was Seven, and as his name implies, he was only seven years old. He too, came from London with his older brother, Nine. Nine wasn't here though, at the time, I didn't know where he was. When Peter first asked his name, Seven thought he was asking for his age, and proudly said 'I'm Seven, and my brother's Nine,' so that was what Peter called them.

Spots was another young one, probably around the same age as Trinket. His dark brown hair was unkempt and shaggy, and his tattered shorts and t-shirt was covered with holes and mud stains.

It was the last kid that was introduced to me that took be by surprise. This was a little girl, about 8 years old, named JetBlack. Rather than wearing the tattered remnants of clothes like the other children, this girl wore a plain black velvet dress with a starch white collar and white knee-high socks with shiny black buckled shoes. Her skin was pale and her hair was straight black and cut at chin level with straight bangs across her brow. She looked like she had just walked out of a painting everything about her was so perfect, while the other kids wore clothes full of dirt and patches, she was completely clean of any of that.

I tried not to let my jaw drop. This was the same little girl that I saw back home, that followed me around outside and that showed up on my camera wandering around my house. And same as before, she stared at me, not breaking her gaze once, with her solid black eyes.

I leaned over and asked Kat, "Is she okay?"

"JetBlack doesn't talk much."

"Where'd she come from?"

"Dunno. She was one Peter brought back long before any of us came here."

They certainly were an interesting group to look at, some of them like time capsules, wearing clothing from 100 years ago, while others, like Trinket and Spots were a bit more on the modern side and Kat being an interesting combination of the two.

Spots pointed at me and called out, "Hey you!"

"You?" Kat answered, "He has a name, Spots."

"Oh yeah... NewOne! Know any stories? Kat knows stories. All big kids know good stories."

"No, I'm not very good at telling stories."

"Well make one up!"

Word got around quick and suddenly the children scooted even closer to Kat and I saying "NewOne's gonna tell us a story!"

"When was this decided? I just said I don't know any stories!"

"Okay, _I'll_ tell ya a story if ya'll settle down." Everyone listened to Kat and they quickly hushed themselves. "They listen to me," she said to me.

"Now what story should I tell you..."

Seven raised his hand, "I want to hear the one about the lions again!"

"No!" Trinket shouted, "I want to hear about the princess with the magic hair!"

"I have an idea," Kat started to stand in a crouched position with her hands out like claws, "how about a story...about... The Wolf!" and she jumped at the group, making them all scream and laugh.

"Okay, The Wolf it is then!"

"Are you gonna start?" Spots asked.

"Yes, I was about to Spots."

"Well you gotta say 'once upon a time'. All stories start with 'once upon a time'."

"Okay..." Kat rolled her eyes, but she was patient enough to not actually be annoyed, "Once upon a time, long, long ago. Longer than even the oldest tree can remember, there was a Little White Bird. Now the Little White Bird was said to be the guardian of a magical island. The people who lived on that island called him Ashé Awae and they all loved the Little White Bird because he would use his powers only for good and fun. He made the sun shine, and the ocean wave. He would rescue hurt, or forgotten children from the main lands and teach them how to play in the clouds and ride the winds in the morning, and take them on wild adventures through a never ending forest in the afternoon. And in the evening, they would all play with the dark sky, tossing stars back and forth with each other until the nightly winds sang them to sleep. The Little White Bird even taught the children to fly. He would remind the children that they too were once birds and as long as they believed they could fly, they could! But the moment they stopped believing, they'd lose the ability for ever, so the children _always_ had to believe in the gift of flight. One day the Little White Bird was playing with this friends out on the shoreline and there, out in the water, they saw a floating house. None of them had ever seen anything like it, they stood there and stared, watching as the house began to float closer to the island.

Later that night, as the children were all trying to sleep a long and lonely howl sailed across the open sky."

I felt Spots poke my arm and he whispered to me, "That's the Wolf."

I nodded, "Oh, okay." He slid over closer to me and leaned his head into my arm.

"Yes Spots, that was the Wolf. Now the next day the Little White Bird and the children all hurried out on the shoreline wondering if they'd see the floating house again, and sure enough, the house was now on the island and they saw a white wolf wondering about in the sand.

Ashé Awae approached the Wolf and asked him what he was doing here, to which the Wolf replied, 'I'm here because I'm lost and I'm looking for a new home. I think this island will do nicely.' But there was something not right with the Wolf and his entrancing blue eyes.

'Well of course you can stay here,' Ashé Awae told him, and the Wolf began to make himself at home. However, unlike those who lived on the island, the Wolf liked the air cold, so cold that the refreshing rains that brought life to the island froze, and turned to ice, which quickly caused much of the plants and animals to die off. Many of the people who lived on the island, the Piccaninnies, soon began to fall ill, and many of them too died.

Well, Ashé Awae wasn't going to tolerate this anymore and challenged the Wolf, saying he must leave.

'Oh no,' the Wolf told him, 'This island is _far_ too perfect for me. Winter has arrived, and he's not going to leave without a fight!' So Ashé Awae challenged the Wolf to a fight the following day on the shoreline. Ashé Awae brought with him all his children, as well as the Piccaninny warriors to fight the Wolf, but he didn't come alone. The Wolf brought with him other white wolves, who like him, were pale skinned and hungry. They all had with them shining silver wands that barked and spit fire. They would point these wands at the children and at the Piccaninnies and with a loud _'CRACK'_ they would instantly fall down dead.

Through the heat of the battle, no one saw where Ashé Awae and the Wolf had run off to. The Little White Bird fluttered away and lead the Wolf far away from the children, where he could no longer hurt them. Soon, they were alone in the forest, to fight their battle."

Peter stood up and continued the story, "The Bird flew all around the Wolf, darting in and out of his snapping jaws, feeling his hot breath on his skin. The Wolf shot at the Bird, trying to bring him down, but missed! Then, the Bird dived! Straight at the Wolf and knocked him down into the dirt! The Wolf thrashed and snapped his jaws, but couldn't catch the cunning Bird who flew off further into the forest. Once he saw the Wolf starting to limp and slow down, the Bird dived again, and this time, he pulled out his digger," Peter drew his own dagger out, "And I _cut_ right through his arm! Just grabbed his hand and!" Peter swung his dagger down, cutting through an imaginary opponent.

"But this wasn't the end of the Wolf," Kat continued, "No, he came back, fiercer than ever, with more wolves who were hungrier for vengeance, and a weapon more fearsome than any the islanders had ever seen. The Wolf seemed to grow back his missing limb, for Winter does not have an icy hand, he has an iron claw!

Now, these spirits have been incarnated into more 'earthly' forms and have become entwined in a war that's lasted a century, neither of them effected by the riddles of time. When the Little White Bird is winning, the skies are brighter, the air is warmer, and everything on the island comes to life and grows. But when the Great White Wolf is winning, there's a chill that bites the air, the rains turn into snow and everything begins to die. The Piccaninnies believe that their civilization will end when the Great White Wolf finally wins and the entire island turns to ice."

The children were all staring at Kat, wide-eyed and attentive.

"That was kind of depressing..." I said, breaking the silence.

Kat smiled, "it's not over. This is where we come in. We're the last of the Birds to fight off the Wolf and his white demons, and we only have a limited amount of time. The Wolf's greatest weapon has yet to be revealed to us. From what I've heard from the Piccaninnies, they call him a 'Talidana', which means 'Second Spirit'. So he's a part of the Wolf, but is a separate person at the same time. Once he shows up, we only have a short amount of time to kill the Wolf once and for all, or everything in Neverland is doomed."

"So who is this Wolf? Is he a person?"

"He _thinks_ he's the king of Neverland," Peter finally put his dagger away and sat down in the middle of the group. "Coming here, building into the forest and killing anyone who gets in his way."

"Oh, so this Wolf guy is real!"

Kat nodded her head, "Yes, his is. He'll lie to you, and manipulate you and do anything he can to get into your head and bring you to his side. He's an evil man and it's best you stay away from him. When I first came here with my younger brother, we made the mistake of trusting him and we paid the price for it. He's not one to be trusted."

"I heard he's a monster!" Spots said.

"And he kidnaps kids and kills them!" Seven added.

"And he eats them too!"

"No he doesn't, Spots!" Penn shouted.

"Ya-huh! What do you think happened to Cody? And Nine! We saw what happened to Nine!"

Kat nodded, her voice was much quieter than it had been before, "That scary..."

"What happened to Nine?"

Everyone quickly settled down.

"A few days ago we were out with the group from Ebony collecting food with the Piccaninnies when we got ambushed. When Nine was trying to run away, he tripped and fell and when we turned around to go get him, this gigantic white dog had bit him in the neck and was trying to drag him off. Me, JetBlack and Peter all ran after the wolf to see where he was going and when we found him, he had already started tearing Nine apart." Kat folded her hands over her nose and mouth, her voice weakened to a whisper, "That was scary."

"But yesterday JetBlack saw a dog that belonged to the Wolf shot 'im with her bow! Don't know if it was the same one though."

JetBlack didn't say anything, but she showed a faint smile at Peter's compliment.

"Yep! Shot 'im dead! And haven't heard from the Wolf since!"

"How are you so sure it was the same person? So this guy can actually turn into a wolf?"

"That's certainly what it seems like. People have seen both his human and spirit form."

Peter joined in, "And you always know when the Wolf's around because it'll snow."

I cocked my head to the side, "Snow? Here? It doesn't feel cold enough for snow." Yes, it _was_ chilly outside, but it certainly didn't feel like snow weather.

"It doesn't get cold when it snows. It just snows."

I looked over at Kat, who looked back at me and we both shrugged at each other. "I get cold," she said, "I don't know what's up with them. Guess they're just used to it."

"He makes it snow so you can't see him," Peter continued on, "He's all white, with a black mane. You can't see him until he's right in front of you. Unless you see his eyes first."

"Yeah, that's another thing, Sid. If you're ever out in the woods and see glowing red eyes, get out of there as fast as you can. I don't know how much of a chance you'll stand, but at least you'll be able to survive for a little while longer."

"Wait, are you implying that I'm _going_ to die out here?"

Kat tilted her head, "Kinda... if you're not careful."

"_Great..._"

The children stayed up for a little while longer, telling me stories of what they do in the woods. Some of them are harmless games while others involved killing 'pirates' which was what Peter called all grown-ups, whether they were actually a pirate or not. They also told me of other Lost Children who used to live in this tree house with them. Roarer, who was killed, and said to be eaten, by the Wolf. Tech, Buzz and Lights, who was Spots' older brother. They had three other tree houses on the island as well. They told me we were at the one near Cannibal Cove on the Eastern side of the island. There was one north of here near Mermaid's Lagoon, south of here, in a place called the Ebony Forest, and on the western side of the island, the main tree house, which was called Hangmans. The population of Lost Children had gotten so big that additional tree houses were needed. However the population is kept at bay either by the pirates, or wild animals killing the children, or if they break any of Peter's rules, including growing up.

Now I didn't understand how that was possible, I thought you stayed the same age forever once you were in Neverland, but that's not the case. I couldn't get a clear answer about that, some of the children believe that growing up is a choice. Peter had his own theory though; he said that only children who remembered being birds wouldn't grow up.

He explained that the children back on the mainlands were never told that they were birds once, and were lead to believe that they must grow up into adults and so they do, thinking they have no other option, and once you stop believing you can't ever go back; the damage is already done. Peter tries to save the children from growing up before it's too late. He brings them here, and tries to get them to remember their early days as a bird, and teaches them to fly again. Some children succeed, and some don't. The ones that don't are taken to the Play Grounds and left there. Peter never explained what the Play Grounds were, but he said that once children go there, they stop growing up, so that was his solution to the problem.

He also explained to me what happens when the children 'go to sleep'. They just go to sleep and don't wake up. He had heard from the Piccaninnies that the Earth is a bed, and so Peter will take the Sleeping Children, and bury them in the Earth. He wraps them up in blankets so they'll stay warm and always makes sure to bury them in pairs so they don't get scared or lonely.

"When I would go back to London I saw people put rocks over where they buried Sleeping People, I guess so they can find them again when they wake up," he told me. Peter carried on this gesture by placing smooth, oval stones above where the Sleeping Children were laying.

I asked him, "What do the Piccaninnies do when their people 'go to sleep'?"

"They bury them until they come back as something else."

It was clear that Peter only understood bits and pieces of the concept of death. He was certain that these children were going to come back, they were just taking a really long nap, since the short naps they take at night probably weren't enough.

The more I tried talking to him about it, the more distant he became, he didn't look at me anymore and the tone of his voice became somewhat aimless like he wasn't interested in the conversation anymore, but instead just answering my questions to answer them. I tried to change the topic about something he'd be more willing to talk about,

"So what ever happened to Hook?"

Right away all the children looked up at me, including Peter who cocked his head to the side and said, "Who's that?"

If I was sitting in a chair I probably would have fallen off of it.

"What do you mean 'who's that'?" I almost started an argument with him, "how do you not remember Captain Hook? You cut off his hand, threw him off his own boat..."

"Oh! Him! He's dead... I killed him a bunch of times. There's some pirates I've killed over a hundred times, they always come back!" he shrugged, "I guess I didn't kill them dead enough."

Kat leaned over and whispered to me, "He doesn't realize these are different pirates. He thinks they're all the same people."

"So Hook is still out there?"

Peter only shrugged, "I could have sworn I killed him last week, but I don't know, maybe he came back again. Sometimes we see him all the time, sometimes we don't. When he comes back he doesn't pay as much attention to me anymore, says he has 'other things' that are more important to take care of. I couldn't think of what could be more important than me."

I glanced over at Kat she seemed a bit on edge about discussing Hook. It was a subtle change, but I could see her hands tensing up around her arms.

"But when I see him again, I'll kill him again too. It's always fun, killing Hook again. I must have killed him several times by now..."

"Alright little ones!" Kat stood up and clapped her hands to get the kids' attention, "I think it's time for bed, it's getting late!"

There was a collective groan from the group, clearly going to bed for the night was the last thing on their minds.

I felt Spots tighten his grip on my arm, "But I wanna talk to NewOne."

"We can talk to Sid all day tomorrow, how's that. The faster you go to sleep the quicker tomorrow will be here. The new day only comes out of hiding when he knows you're not watching him!" Kat began herding the kids to two separate rooms on the other side of the tree house. I couldn't see that well inside them, since they were only lit by a few small candles, but I could at least see a giant bed in each room.

"But what about the Wolf?" Trinket asked.

"Don't let your imagination get the best of you, Trinket, we're all safe here."

There was no order to what room the kids went into, they just picked one. The second room was probably dug out after the first room became too small for the amount of children. They situated themselves like sardines, side by side in the bed and Kat tucked them all in and then went around the tree house, blowing out each of the candles. The only child who was hadn't gotten in bed yet was Peter, who was standing by himself at the doorway of one of the bedrooms.

"You okay, Peter?" I asked.

He just shook his head. He glanced into the bedroom then back out to the main room.

"I'm waiting for Kat."

Kat was almost finished with the last candle before she called over, "I'll be there in a bit, Peter."

Peter nodded and went into the bedroom.

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he just has trouble getting to sleep at night." Kat hurried over to the bed room and I saw her blow out the two or three candles in there. I couldn't make out what she was saying to Peter, but it sounded like she was trying to calm him down, or at least talk him into going to sleep. The only light left in the tree house was coming from a few candles behind me in a third bedroom, which I guess was Kat's own room. It took a little while, but she was finally able to get Peter to sleep and she ducked out of the bed room and smiled at me.

"Now, _we_ can talk," Kat grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to one of the slides and climbed up, and I followed her.

The two of us climbed out of the opening and we sat next to each other, leaning our backs against the tree and staring out into the sky through the clearing in the trees. It was chilly out, but nothing unbearable. Kat folded her arms over her chest and leaned into my side.

"So how'd ya get here, Jersey Boy?" she asked.

"Honestly," I laughed, "I have no idea."

She looked at me a little confused, "How'd you not know?"

I shrugged, "I just don't." I told her how, just earlier that night, I was with my friend and our experience with the shadows and our encounter with JetBlack before we even knew who she was.

"Wow, yeah, that sounds like it'd freak me out too."

"Well thing is, I've always had these things following me around."

Kat looked up at me, quite surprised, "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. I mean, I always just played it off as my imagination when I was younger, and my aunt and uncle used to tell me it was nothing to worry about, but for as long as I can remember, I've been followed around by these shadows."

"Why'd you tell your aunt and uncle?"

"Because I grew up with them."

"What about your parents?"

I paused for a moment, "There's a lot of weird shit going on regarding my parents. Um, well, when I was 2 they were both killed in a car accident, which is why I grew up with my aunt and uncle. And on top of that, they weren't even my _real_ parents either, I was adopted from England..."

"Oh wow, Sid, I'm sorry. That's interesting about England though. Where at in England?"

"London. But thing is, I don't know who my biological parents are _either_. So yeah... never really got to experience the whole 'parents' thing..."

"Wow... God, if that was me, I'd wonder about them all the time."

"I've seen a picture of them, but I don't have any information about who they are or where they could be."

When I was younger, well, old enough to understand, my aunt and uncle told me about where I came from and showed me a picture of my birth parents from England. My mother was really pretty; thin, but shapely with wavy red hair and heart shaped lips. My father had long black hair, which was all pulled into a loose pony tail in front of his shoulder, and his aviator sunglasses covered most of his thin face. I remember he was wearing a black drivers hat and an Iron Maiden 'The Trooper' T-shirt. The back of the photo had written on it, "Tower Bridge, London, 1988".

"Think you'd ever meet your real parents?"

I shrugged, "I dunno... I'd liked to. I mean, they seem pretty cool, especially if they listen to Iron Maiden." we both laughed.

"Wish I had cool parents like that..."

"Why, what happened to you?"

"Me and my younger brother, Cody, grew up in a pretty rough household. Our dad was an alcoholic and was abusive towards us and our mom. And I mean like, really bad, like, pushed me into a wall and broke several of my ribs when I was 11 kind of bad."

"Holy shit, Kat!"

"Yeah, not fun... I'm really glad I came here actually."

"The kids don't drive you nuts?"

Kat smiled, "Not really no. By now they're like family. We do a lot, we have fun, doesn't mean they can't be a handful though, especially Peter... I feel bad for the kid, he has nightmares constantly and it can be difficult to get him to fall asleep sometimes...and _stay_ asleep. That's why you saw me talking to him earlier."

"What could he possibly have nightmares about?"

"I don't know. He'll just wake up in a cold sweat and start screaming. Most of the time he doesn't even remember, but the few times he does, it's usually about the Wolf."

"Is he really _that_ bad?"

"Yeah. He killed Cody three years ago. Never found his body, which is why everyone kept saying that they think the Wolf ate him."

"So you've been here for a while then."

"Yeah, five years total. First came here when I was 13."

I looked at Kat and raised my eyebrow, "You do _not_ look 13..."

"I know, I know. Because I aged. Just because you're in Neverland doesn't mean time stops forever. One of the things I noticed when I came here was that some people age, and some people don't. Cody didn't age a day when he was here, however, I did for some reason."

"How the hell did Peter not notice?" We both laughed at this, it _did_ seem like something that was a bit hard to miss in a young woman.

"Honestly, I don't think Peter understood. It's not like I got any taller," she laughed, "I just woke up with boobs one day! But I really don't think Peter knew what was happening, and even if he did, I'm kind of the 'mother' of the group, so he wouldn't be too quick to get rid of me. Plus, I spy on the pirates for him, I can walk around the towns and no one would think anything of me whereas they'd pounce on a Lost Boy the first time they saw 'em."

"Is that why he brought you here?"

"That's a weird story, you probably wouldn't believe it..."

I raised my eyebrows and looked at her, "Really Kat? With all the crap I just went though?"

Kat laughed and leaned her head into my shoulder; I felt her squeeze my arm.

"Okay...well, if anything I'm more here because Peter wanted Cody, not me. So what happened was that one morning at breakfast Cody told me how the previous night he was in the bathroom brushing his teeth when this purple light started to fly around in his room. Not like a little firefly, I mean like a _big_ purple light. He ran over to go catch it, and it just flew out the window. By the way he described it, it sounded like the light was acting on its own.

I just told him that he probably imagined it, he was only 6 at the time. But over the next few days he kept telling me more and more about this light he kept seeing. He only told _me_ these things, he never mentioned anything to our parents.

After a week of that there was one night where he ran into my room screaming because he said he saw a boy staring at him through his window. He dragged me into his room and of course, I didn't see anything, and I told him, 'Cody, we're on the second floor of the house, how can there be a boy _standing_ at your window?' but he _insisted_ he saw someone there. Cody was never the type of kid to lie, and that's what freaked me out. I knew something was going on, but I didn't know what.

Well _this_ went on for a month until one morning I came down stairs and saw him sitting at the kitchen table, eyes _wide_ open, he just turned to me and said 'he came in my room last night'."

"That is freaky..." I said.

"Yeah, right? So that night I told him I'd stay with him in his room and I tried to stay awake to keep an eye on him. Well, sure enough, at about 2am, I hear the window slide up and this little kid, probably about 10 years old _floats_ into Cody's room...okay, he _floated_. He didn't notice that I was there, I was laying under a pile of blankets on the floor, but I saw him go over and wake up Cody. He started to tell him that he could 'take him away from this place' and 'take him to this island where he doesn't have to worry about anything anymore' and Cody kept telling him he didn't want to go. The kid never touched him or forced him to come with him, but he _was_ persistent. Eventually I sat up and asked him who he was and what he was doing here and he just put his hands on hips and said 'Why, I'm Peter Pan'."

"What..." Kat's story literally sounded like a modern retelling of the book. As she went on, it just got weirder and weirder.

"Yeah, it was really strange. You grow up hearing these stories and seeing movies, but holy crap, it's real? It's like 'what the hell?'. Oddly enough the more he talked, the more Cody and I became interested, I mean, we certainly didn't want to stay in that house, but at the same time, we didn't want to abandon our mom and leave her alone." Kat's voice fell to a softer tone, "Well, as we were talking to Peter, a fight broke out between our parents down stairs and we heard a lot of screaming, a lot of things breaking and falling over, somebody getting hit... Cody and I just looked at each other and we knew we had to get out of there... We figured, maybe if we left, our mom could leave too, because she wouldn't have to worry about us anymore. So... we told Peter we would go with him.

He got really excited and started to tell us that we'd have so much more fun, and not be in danger anymore. Well, he whistled and this little ball of purple light flew into our room... The same purple light that Cody said he had seen weeks ago. It was a fairy. It was a little man, no more than six inches tall with long red hair and yellow leaves as clothes. Peter told us he had to leave, as he had other children to find, but this fairy, Snap Dragon, would be our guide to Neverland."

"So, you actually got to fly here. Shit, I feel like I got ripped off now."

"Yeah..." her smile returned and was wider than it had been all night, "it was really cool... As we flew over Virginia, we could see all the lights from all the cities. We saw Richmond, D.C., Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York. You could literally see I95, it looked like this string of lights going down the East Coast connecting all the cities. It was the coolest thing ever."

"Kat, just letting you know, there will always be a part of me that will hate you forever for that," the two of us laughed.

"Flying was seriously the single greatest thing I've ever done in my life. When they tell you to think of a happy thought, they act like it's difficult, but I just kept thinking of how cool it was to actually be flying, and that alone kept me going. I grew up in a house where I was scared to do, just about anything, but knowing that now I was free from all that... it was the best feeling in the world."

"And that was five years ago?"

"Yeah."

"So what do you think happened after you left? Think you're mom's okay?"

Kat shrugged, "God, I hope so... I already lost Cody..." she was quiet for a few moments but when she started talking again, her voice sounded a lot weaker,

"And it was because of something stupid too. Something that could have been so easily avoided."

"What did this guy do?"

"Like I said, don't trust him. I guess children are brought up to be afraid of wolves for a reason. He kidnapped him, and killed him. That's all we know. We've never been able to find him and the Wolf always says that he didn't do it, but I know he did. He can deny it all he wants. It's not going to bring Cody back, but at least I shot him pretty good."

"Wait, you shot him!"

She nodded and folded her arms over her chest, "Mhmm! Right in the face. And I'd shoot him again too."

"How is he still alive if you shot him in the face, or isn't he?"

"No, he's still crawlin' around out there. Whole lot uglier though. I don't know how he survived, but if it means I get the chance to shoot him a second time, I'd be more than happy to!"

"Nice..."

We both smiled at each other. The wind started to pick up more and it whistled loudly through the empty trees.

"That don't sound good..." Kat started to stand up, and I followed suit, "We should probably get back inside."

"Yeah, it's getting cold..."

"I ain't worried about the cold, I'm worried about the Wolf. If you're out here at night long enough, you're bound to find him. Well, more like he'll find you, and ya'll don't want that."

I agreed. He didn't seem like someone I wanted to encounter.

I followed Kat back down into the tree house and she took me to her room, which was that third bedroom that had been dug out. She told me she and Cody shared the room together since Cody wanted to be as close to his sister as he could. After arriving, he was starting to become more frightened everyday and Kat told me he rarely left her side. She blew out the candles and we both climbed into the bed, which was basically a giant pillow filled with down feathers with a heavy wool blanket that was a lot warmer than it looked.

The two of us laid there next to each other in the dark. Slowly my eyes started to adjust and I could see the shapes of the walls again. Kat just so happened to get a look at my shirt and notice it was from Busch Gardens and right away we began talking about our past vacations there.

"I miss going there," she told me, "Before I knew Neverland existed, _that_ was my Neverland. It's the only place where I remember my entire family all being happy. I miss it. My dad took me on my first roller coaster when I was there."

"Big Bad Wolf, right?"

Kat smiled, "Your first too?"

"Yep! I love that ride."

"Yeah, like, we did so much there, as a family, it wasn't me and Cody against them, or my mom against my dad, we _all_ got along. The best memories I have a kid were there with my dad, actually." She sighed, and her voice got a bit more quiet, "I don't hate my dad, but at the same time I do, if that makes any sense. I don't hate him, but I hate what he does and what kind of person he turns into. I know it's not his fault though, he can't help it. If anything, I hate hating him. No one wants to see someone they care about deteriorate in front of them. In a way, my dad took my dad away from me, he's not the same person he was when I was little and over time he got further away from himself." I felt her squeeze my arm a little tighter,

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm cursed or something because it seems like whenever I try to have a father figure in my life, they get taken away from me somehow and it's gotten to a point where I'm scared to get close to anyone, not because I'm afraid to get hurt, but because I'm afraid to lose them. I'm tired of losing people, I've lost everyone there is to lose."

I wasn't expecting Kat to get so deep but this all seemed like something she had been dying to say for a while now.

"Well, I'm pretty sure I'm not going anywhere, I don't know where else I could go. I only know you guys."

Kat smiled at me, "I hope you don't leave us."

"I won't."

She held out her pinky to me, "Pinky swear?"

I wrapped my finger around hers, "Pinky swear."

"I sure hope if you meet your parents, Sid, they're not like mine. That'd be a hard pill to swallow."

"I don't know," I said, " Honestly, I think I'd still want to know. Either way, whether my parents are good people or not, even if they're alive or not, I'd still want to know the truth. I can either keep asking the same question forever or get my answer. Even if I don't like what I hear, I still want to know."

"You're a braver person than I am, Sid."

"Nah... You should have been there when I screamed like a little bitch at my ice cube maker..."

This made Kat finally smile, "I've done that too. I swear, they could make horror movies with those things."

We smiled at each other and I felt Kat nuzzle her cheek against my shoulder. The two of us quieted down and tried to finally go to sleep. I guess she was used to all the noises of the island, but every little thing made me open my eyes again and look around. I heard animals pattering around over head, the wind blowing through the trees and heavy footsteps.

"Kat, you hear that?" I whispered.

"Hear what?"

"Listen..."

I wasn't just imagining things, there really was someone, actually quite a few people, walking around above ground. We could hear them talking to each other, there were several distinct voices, but we couldn't make out what they were saying.

"Those aren't Indians are they?"

Kat shook her head, "No, the Piccaninnies are quieter than that. They would bother us this late at night anyway," She quickly sat up and slid out of the bed, "Stay here, I'm getting Peter."

"Wait, what's going on?" I got up and followed her into the main room. Soon all of the children were woken up and gathered into the main living area. While the other children were still groggy, Peter was wide awake and ready to fight,

"Lost Boys! Grab your weapons and hold the tree house. Kat and I are going to go outside and see what's going on. The rest of you, everyone guard a tree and don't let anyone in."

Once the kids realized this was serious, they snapped to attention and grabbed and their weapons that hung on the walls; large knives, bows, spears, whatever weapon they felt best suited them, and stood in front of the tree entrances. Some of the trees had two children guarding them.

"What about me?"

Kat handed me a dagger, "Go stand over by Spots. Peter and I will be right back!"

She and Peter ran into one of the bedrooms and from what I could tell, were going through a crawl space that lead further out away from the tree house. Whoever is outside would expect us to come out of one of these trees, not from a hidden exit from behind.

Suddenly everything from up above became quiet. We didn't know who was above us, if they were still above us, or what their intentions were. It was already bad enough we couldn't see anything, but we couldn't hear anything either; our only hints to their whereabouts were gone.

I looked down at my side and Spots, the little boy who was so frightened of the Wolf in Kat's story, was standing there with his spear, eyes locked on the entrance and ready to fight. This little kid was braver than I was, I could feel myself shaking.

We heard a shrill scream from Trinket at the other end of the tree house and somebody getting knocked over. I turned around to see what was going on, and before I could, I felt something heavy throw me down to the floor and grab my hands, roughly pulling them behind me. A cold metal ring was locked around my wrists and I was grabbed by the shoulders back up on my feet. These people didn't say a word the entire time, however, the children were all screaming or crying, even with their weapons they didn't expect an ambush like this.

A deep, voice behind me began to whisper out raspy orders, "Move, move, move! Grab'em and get out of here!"


	4. First Snow

First Snow

We were pulled out of the underground house, one by one, through one of the tree entrances. The boys were struggling desperately to get out of the grasps of these men, but their efforts were useless. Each of their wrists were closed in iron rings too, and all their kicking and squirming got them nowhere. Outside, the forest had undergone a complete transformation; a thin layer of snow blanketed the ground and the light from the full moon bounced around in icicles now hanging from the trees. Not long before this looked like a bear autumn forest and even though I noticed the sudden temperature drop outside, I didn't think the change would be this dramatic. It was so cold outside now that our breath was visible.

I looked up at the man who was holding me; he was dressed more elaborately than some of the others. A heavy green frock coat was buttoned closed around him and a red embroidered dragon snaked from the back of the coat, to up over his left shoulder. His hair was longer than mine, and was a lighter colour brown. He wore a piece of a flag as a bandana; I recognized the dragon on this, and on his coat; he was Welsh. When he looked down at me, and I guess got a good look at me in the light, he seemed a little surprised.

"Whoa! You're an older one!" He turned and called out to another man, "Oi, Isaac, think I should take this one too?"

The other man was dragging two boys at his sides, one of them was Spots, and the other one was Penn. As he walked over, he narrowed his eyes at me.

"Aye, take him to Jas. Better safe than sorry."

I felt a tug on my arms pull me again, "Sorry mate, just following orders. I think you'll be alright though, I doubt Jesper wants anything to do with you."

From behind us, another pirate laughed, "Don't tell him that! Jesper doesn't want anything to do with _any_ of these little bastards. The only good Lost Boy is a dead one!" He hoisted Trinket up and over his shoulder and marched ahead of us. My guy followed, at first he was dragging me, but once I got my footing, I just walked next to him.

"Yeah, there's that too…" he said, responding to the earlier made comment, "But like I said mate, I don't think he wants any trouble with you."

"Who doesn't?"

"Jesper..._King James_..?"

I shrugged.

"No idea who I'm talkin' about, huh?"

I shook my head, "No..."

He sighed, "You'll see..."

There were twenty-four of these men all together, some of them were holding on to children while the rest must have stayed outside to keep watch. They were all dressed exactly the same; black pants, white long sleeved shirts and dark blue velvet doublets. They all wore white leather wolf masks with the area around the eyes blackened out and the men that weren't holding on to a child were armed with muskets.

All the children were forced to stand in a line, each of the men holding onto their rings to keep them in place. I was at the far end of this line. My eyes were darting around in the trees looking for Peter and Kat, or at least their footprints in the snow to where they had gone, but there was no trace of them.

It was so cold out that not only was I shivering, but so were the men. The only ones that didn't seem to mind the weather were the children, whether it was because they were too scared to notice, or they were just used to the weather, I couldn't say, but even with as little clothing they had on, they stood still as stone.

A small floating lantern peeked out from behind the trees and started towards us, right away all the men came to attention and froze in their places. I even felt my guy's grip on me tense as the lantern came closer. The bubble of light it gave off revealed lean but muscular man in a grey wool coat and a white bandana wrapped around the top of his head. Once this man started to come into view, I heard a soft chuckle right next to me and my guy shouted out, "Guess who's getting a raise!" A few of the other men laughed.

"Commodore Yale! Well done, sir, didn't think you had it in ya! I'm impressed," He shouted back.

"Quit the arse-kissin' Starkey. I succeeded where you failed. Blimey, their new entrance might as well of had a _sign_ pointin' to it. At least _I_ knew what trees to look for. When I say I know something, usually I'm telling the truth."

As this new man approached us, he raised an eyebrow, "Usually?"

"Usually... I know what I said, Starkey."

Starkey shook his head, "You're something else Nef... Regardless, I think King James will be pleased."

Commodore Yale whispered under his breath, "That's why Jesper put _me_ in charge of this run."

"Did you find Kaitlin?" Starkey asked.

"Uh... no... She wasn't in there... However! We found this one with 'em." The commodore gave me a rough shake, "I'm thinkin' we hold on to him, that's what Isaac said."

'_What did they want with Kat?_' I thought.

Starkey directed his attention to me and leaned forward to get a closer look. He wasn't too much taller than me and when he was in front of me, he held up his lantern and squinted in the dim light,

"Here? Ya don't say. Eh, I would say hold on to 'im. I'm sure he knows something."

"Actually, dude, I just…"

"OI! SHUT IT YOU!" Starkey's voice boomed and echoed through the forest. "You weren't given permission to talk, _boy_."

This took me by surprise. I didn't expect him to shout at me like that. I shouted back, "Yo! Who the hell you think you're talkin' to!"

Before Starkey could say another word, Commodore Yale held his free hand up, "Let it go. Jas might need this one and he'll kill _you_ if you kill _him_."

Starkey shot me a glare. The moment he turned his back I mumbled under my breath,

"Wow, that guy's a prick..."

I wasn't expecting a response from anyone, but sure enough, I heard a snicker from the commodore,

"Aye, he can be..."

Starkey walked down the rest of the line of children and silently took his frustration out on little Seven by giving him a swift kick in the side. There was a faint pop that was followed by the boy's scream. I tried to get a look at what happened and noticed that his left shoulder hung down low under his skin; it was dislocated. I gulped and looked away.

Starkey stopped at the end of the line and he shouted into the trees, "They're all here!"

There was a heavy thud, then a quiet shifting of leaves and snow accompanied by the soft jingle of sleigh bells. From the edge of the tree line a tall black shadow started to take shape in the lantern light. "All just waiting your approval, Sir."

Commodore Yale gave me a slight nudge, "_That's_ King James." He whispered, "And if you wanna get out a' this alive, you do your best to bite that tongue a' yours. No more of them outbursts and back talks, got it?"

I nodded.

A chill went down my back as I saw the shadow begin to gracefully approach us. The man was draped in a long black cloak, its hood up, covering most of his face, and a large black horse in a white caparison walked beside him with its head lowered and four silver sleigh bells hanging from its reigns. As he got closer he lifted his head up and the lantern light reflected orange off of his blue, round lens glasses. A mask, shaped to look like the mouth of a snarling wolf covered the bottom half of his face and long, black, curly hair fell from the hood on either side and blew gently in the breeze. Tufts of smoke blew out of the nose holes of the mask with each breath.

He stopped and stood in front of us, no expression was readable on his face and I think that's what scared me the most. It was just a snarling set of fangs that started at us. The horse however, let everyone know how it felt; it shook its head, pawed at the snow and snorted when Starkey tried to take hold of its lead line.

"Don't touch him." King James hissed, his voice projected quite clearly behind the mask.

Starkey froze in place and dropped the line.

"He was _fine_ until you had to touch him."

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't think..."

"_Clearly_," King James growled, cutting him off.

He raised his arm out from under the cloak and slowly pulled his glasses off his face, revealing his icy blue eyes. He held the glasses in front of Starkey,

"Here, but you're allowed to hold _these_." Starkey narrowed his eyes and snatched the glasses from King James' hand, ungracefully shoving them in one of his coat pockets.

King James pulled his hood away and shook out his hair, which reached down to his waist, then began to pull the mask away from his face and drew a deep breath as he lowered it and allowed it to hang freely around his neck. His face was very thin with wide cheek bones which gave him an almost skeletal appearance. His pointed goatee and silver, talon shaped jewelry he wore pierced through his lower lip exaggerated the sharpness of his jaw and made his face appear even thinner. His eyes calmly scanned the line of children. They were cold, steely blue eyes, and because of the lanterns, they gave off a reddish-orange glow from the inside, like a cat's eyes reflecting light. As he turned his head towards me I was able to see the other half of his face. A large black four-pointed star tattoo circled his left eye and quite literally took up the entire side of his face.

Snowflakes began to speckle his wavy black hair and cloak and he too, gave a shiver and pulled his cloak closed around him. He looked over at Commodore Yale,

"Is this all of them?" he asked. His voice had a hollowness to it.

"All the ones in the tree house, Sir." he responded. "There was no sign of Peter or Kaitlin anywhere though."

"Well then, who do we have here..."

King James glided in front of the line of children, walking slowly, getting a good look at each one. The children's faces contorted into expressions of pure hatred. They narrowed their eyes and wrinkled their noses in a sneer as he passed in front of them, his long cloak wiping away his footsteps in the snow. As he walked passed Spots, he gently ran his hand through the boy's snow speckled hair. Spots jerked away and screamed,

"Don't touch me!"

Everything stopped. The soldiers stopped. King James stopped. Even the wind stopped as this man looked down his nose at the little boy.

"I hate you!" Spots screamed again. His soldier gave a sharp tug on Spots' ring to keep him quiet, but children don't listen very well.

"Get away from me! I hate you!"

King James looked offended by the remark; he rested his hand against his chest and knelt down, placing himself at eye level with the boy.

"Now, now, why would you say such a thing? Hate's a strong word." His voice was much softer now; it was almost eerily calming.

Spots didn't respond right away. Instead he stared daggers at King James. Wearing only shorts and an open vest, not shivering once.

"Because you kill people..." He eventually mumbled. The anger rose again in his voice and he pulled forward, "You kill everyone! You killed Roarer, you killed Buzz, you killed Tech, you killed Nine, you killed Cody, you killed my big brother, you kill everyone! I hate you! I hope you die! I hope the Indians rip your guts out and light them on fire and you die! I hate you!"

My mouth fell open and I whispered back to Commodore Yale,

"That kid has quite the mouth, damn... I think he's only like, 5."

The commodore nodded, "Aye, quite the colourful vocabulary..." He was just as surprised as I was.

Spots closed his eyes and began to cry. King James raised his arms out from under his cloak. My eyes caught a gleam of silver as his right sleeve cuff rolled down; the sight of a wickedly curved hook made my breath stop. He wrapped his arms around Spots and pulled him into a hug. I was surprised to see him try to bury his face into King James' chest, giving in and allowing himself to be comforted by the soft white velvet of his coat he wore under his black cloak.

Quietly hushing him, King James lifted him away from his chest. He raised his hook up and touched Spots' face with it, and to my surprise he didn't flinch. It couldn't have been warmer than 10 degrees outside and a piece of metal touching anyone would have spurred some sort of reaction. But Spots just stood there, as if nothing was touching him at all.

"Cold out here, isn't it?" King James whispered. Spots shook his head,

"I don't feel anything..."

King James' eyes widened.

He used the cuff of his sleeve to wipe away Spots' tears, and pulling him into another hug, said, "Don't worry my dear, you'll be in good hands soon."

Spots nuzzled his face into King James' coat. The snowy velvet seemed to have a calming effect on the boy. It seemed odd to me at first, but looking back, that was probably the first hug that kid has gotten in years.

He kept one arm wrapped around Spots while he reached into his coat. He started to calmly sing with a beautifully rich voice and everyone, including myself, couldn't help but become entirely entranced by it.

"_Lullay, thou little tiny child  
Sleep well, lullay, lullay  
And smile in dreaming, little one  
Sleep well, lullay, lullay_" Then I heard a gunshot.

There was a red spray, Spots' head jerked back and he fell limp on the ground with a smoking wound under his chin and a gaping hole in the back of his head.

"_Farewell, lullay lullay_"

The children started screaming. '_He just shot him,_' I thought, '_Oh my God, he just shot him._'

Commodore Yale leaned down and whispered, "Shoulda' warned ya about that, sorry mate. Gotta kill the Lost ones."

I didn't want to, but morbid curiosity forced me to keep looking. King James had tucked the gun in his right arm and began reloading. He stood up, the sleeves of his white coat and face spattered with blood, and he looked at the rest of the boys who were now trying to fight to get away, but the carol continued,

"_Oh sisters two, what may we do  
To preserve on this day  
This poor youngling for whom we sing  
Sleep well, lullay, lullay  
Farewell, lullay, lullay_

_Herod the king in his raging" CRACK!_ A third shot was fired and Trinket fell down.  
"_Set forth upon this day  
By his decree, no life spare thee  
All children young to slay" CRACK!_  
"_All children young to slay_" A fourth shot had rang out. Seven collapsed on the ground.

"_Then woe is me, poor child, for thee  
And ever mourn and say  
For thy parting, neither say nor sing  
Farewell, lullay, lullay  
Farewell, lullay, lullay" CRACK!_ Penn was the last of them to fall.

"_And when the stars fill darkened skies  
In their far venture, stay  
and smile as dreaming little one..._"

The singing stopped when he finally made it to me at the end of the line. The rest of the children laid in heaps on the ground either gasping for breath or already dead from the gunshots, the soldiers had no need to hold on to their wrists anymore. Laying still in pools of their own blood, now mixing in the snow, they weren't going to run away now.

King James stood in front of me and his eyes locked into mine. The contrasts of his blue eyes with his pale skin made it almost impossible to look away from him. These colours commanded your attention.

He tucked his gun away inside is cloak and he reached out to touch my face with a gloved hand. On each finger he wore a jointed armor ring and I instantly shivered from the coldness of them as they glided across my face. He took notice of this and gave a sigh of relief.

His eyes darted around, studying me; my face, my hair, my clothes, everything, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. When he spoke his breath wisped in front of his face like the smoke of a dragon.

"My God…" he whispered. King James leaned forward so his face was inches from mine, smoke pouring from his mouth.

"What's your name, child?" he asked, resting the back of his velvety glove against my cheek.

"Sidney Alton..." I wasn't so sure I wanted to answer, but it just came out anyway.

"Sidney?" He whispered to himself. He straitened himself out, raising up to his full height, he was a good foot taller than I was, "Where did you find him?"

"He was in the tree house with the others, Sir." Commodore Yale said.

He brushed my hair away from my face and leaned back down closer to me, "You need to come with me."

I shook my head, "No..."

King James' brow furrowed and he slightly tilted his head. Before he could say another word I jumped forward and head-butt him in the nose. There was a simultaneous gasp from everyone who witnessed the attack, and in the shock, I felt Commodore Yale let go of my ring. I made another strike at King James, this time hitting him in the jaw with my shoulder.

And then I ran. Faster than I ever had in my life.

Several muskets clicked behind me and fired, spraying up snow around my legs, but King James shouted over the barking guns,

"Leave him!" His voiced echoed through the forest. I turned around just in time to see him lick the blood pouring from his nose and lip, "He's mine!"

I heard more commotion and yelling from behind me as I sprinted through the forest. The ground was entirely white with snow. The wind blew snow into the sides of the trees, making them even more difficult to see in the dim moon light, the whole forest just looked like towering black lines on a white background in every direction. Not only was it difficult to judge where I was going, my hands were still locked behind me, which made running through the forest incredibly difficult; I only had to trip once and I was done.

I heard a deep rumble from behind me, I knew King James was after me on his horse and it was only a matter of time before he caught up to me. I did my best to dart in and out of trees, trying to veer away from any clear path. It was already difficult for me to run through and I hoped that it'd be even more difficult for such a large horse. But soon enough I saw a large shadow out of the corner of my eye; not only was this horse keeping up with me, but it easily stomped through any obstacle that was in its path. King James was practically standing in the saddle, his hair and cloak whipping wildly behind him and a glowing lantern swinging by his hook.

I found a patch of densely packed trees and ran in through there, no matter how agile this horse was, I knew for a fact something so big couldn't fit through these trees. Horse and rider continued to keep pace with me though, just outside the patch of trees. I turned away from them, deeper into the patch, I knew I had gotten away when I heard a loud whiney from the horse as King James pulled it back and brought its gallop to a sudden halt.

I don't know how long I had been running for, but I knew I was far enough away from everyone. I couldn't hear anything in the forest, actually the only thing I could hear was my heart pounding in my chest and my heavy breathing. The trees started to spread out more and more and eventually opened up to a large earth mound that looked like it had been dug out on the inside. I did one last look around to make sure King James wasn't in sight and I hurried into the mound.

Being careful not to slip or trip over any unseen rock or hole, I shuffled my boots once inside and stayed close to the wall. I felt my leg bump into a large rock in the dark and I quickly swung around behind it. I sat down and was able to pull my arms around over my legs so that they were now in front of me.

It didn't take long before the sound of pounding hooves rumbled from outside of the entrance. I tried to duck down behind the rock, but at the same time wanted to see what was going on outside and the hole was dark enough that no one would be able to see me.

Soon I began to hear the soft sound of bells again, which was followed by heavy grunting and the crunching of snow. I lowered myself a bit more behind the rock but still kept an eye out. The cold was starting to settle in again and paired with my nerves, I started to shiver. The bells became louder and soon the crunch of snow turned into clicking of hooves against hard rock.

Standing now at the entrance and silhouetted against the moonlight and snow was King James mounted atop the giant Friesian. He guided the horse inside, puffs of smoke accompanied each of the horse's heavy snorts. King James pulled the horse to a stop and swung down out of the saddle. The glowing lantern swung from his hook and glowing eyes lit up his face; as his eyes shifted I noticed their glow would fade and flicker with the lantern's flame.

He glided in, quiet as a ghost, tufts of smoke flowing from his mouth with each breath. There was actually a moment when his eyes seemed to be looking right at me, like he knew where I was hiding.

"Fe, fi, fo _fum_…"On the last syllable he used his hook to sharply pull back the hammer of his pistol with an echoing click; this caused the lantern to swing freely, like a pendulum, and created a dizzying lightshow on the walls which was accompanied by a warm, but wicked laugh; he was taunting me.

With the light, I was able to see more of the inside of mound, it's walls had holes cut out and inside each hole was what looked like bodies wrapped tightly in furs and woven blankets. I lowered myself further behind the rock.

"You can't hide in here forever, you know." He started walking over towards me and was actually standing on the other side of the rock. His attention was kept away from me though, if he would have looked down, he would have seen me.

"What makes you think I'm going to harm you?" He touched his lower lip, which was lightly bleeding, gently with his finger, "Even though I rightfully should."

He took a few more steps away from the rock and turned his back to me, occasionally looking out the mouth of the cave. "You can only hide for so long, child. Eventually, I _will_ find you."

I didn't know if it was his voice or the cold that sent a shiver down my spine. I pulled my knees up to my chin, and gave a heavy sigh and closed my eyes.

I heard his footsteps start to come closer to the rock again, but the horse also began moving, making it difficult now to hear where he was. Suddenly, everything stopped. I waited a minute, then opened my eyes and lifted my head up a little bit. It seemed safe and I put my hand on the rock as I stood up to look around. As soon as I turned around I saw two cloudy red spots staring back at me and I jumped. I lost my balance, slammed back into the cave wall and actually fell back down on the ground again. King James was sitting on the rock, lantern on his lap, staring down at me with a demonic grin.

"JESUS CHRIST!"

His hand shot out and covered my mouth, "Relax, I'm trying to help you!"

I pulled my head away from him and in my struggle smacked the back of my head against the cave wall, "OW! ...What?"

"I'm trying to help you," he whispered again.

"Trying to help me?! You damn near almost killed..."

"Shh! Not so loud!" His hand shot out over my mouth again. He paused and looked around, trying to focus in the dark, "You're going to get us _both_ killed if you keep shouting like that. Now get up and come with me, I have to get you out of here."

"Oh hell no. I'm not going anywhere with you."

"You don't trust me?"

"Not really no! I find it a little hard to trust someone who shoots little kids point blank in the face for no reason."

He arched his back, leaning in closer to me, "What have they told you?"

"What are you talking about? They haven't told me anything."

"Nothing?"

I shook my head.

"Nothing at all?"

"No."

"I find that hard to believe."

"What, you don't trust me?"

We both paused and King James straightened his back and smirked.

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Don't say it."

His soft, deep laugh echoed through the cavern. "Alright, enough of this playing around, I need to get you out of here..."

"Don't you start that shit again!" My voice was little louder than I probably wanted it to be, but I couldn't help myself. "I'm not going anywhere with _anybody_! I am staying. Right. _Here_."

"Handcuffed, by yourself in a cave, unarmed, with no way to keep yourself warm for the night?"

I paused to think for a moment, "Yes. Yes I am."

King James just shook his head at me. "Don't let that stubbornness be the death of you."

He slid down from the rock and knelt in front of me. As he did so, he opened the clasps on his cloak, slid it off his shoulders and wrapped it around me. When I looked up, his face was right in front of mine. I felt him grab the ring on my wrists and after a muffled click, the ring opened and slid off. His voice became softer and much more sincere,

"When you decide you need my help, come find me."

I didn't give him any sort of answer; I didn't nod or anything, but he knew I understood him. It was hard for me to tell though if it was genuine and he really _was_ trying to help or if he was just trying to trick me but either way, I'll admit, I felt a little bad for not taking his offer. Without another word, he simply stood up and turned around to leave.

"Come on, London." He said softly. The horse raised his ears and lightly trotted over to King James. He took the horse's reigns and turned to look at me one last time, the glowing in his eyes faded as he narrowed his eyes at me,

"And, hopefully you come find me, before anyone else finds _you_."

I stood up and was about to say something but stopped. King James had pulled his out his pistol and was pointing it into the cavern,

"Get down!" he hissed.

I ducked behind the rock again and the cave lit up with a loud crack.

When I looked up over the rock, he was tucking his pistol back into his belt and began to lead the horse further away from the cave. I could hear shouting from a few men, but they were too far away and I couldn't understand them. King James shouted back over them,

"I took care of him! We're going back to the Harbour. We're done here for the night!"

I waited until it was completely silent outside before I let myself at ease again. Aside from the soft falling snow, the forest was dead silent; no bird calls, no animals, no children even.

Nothing.

I pulled the cloak closed around me. It was lined with a thick grey fur and was really the only thing keeping me warm. The clasps were two silver wolf heads biting down on a centre ring, blue sapphires were set in the wolves' eyes and at certain angles they gave off a bright red shine. I leaned back up against the cave wall and closed my eyes. I had no way of knowing at the time if he was being serious about helping me or if he was just making the offer to trick me. Either way, my curiosity was certainly peaked. Why did he kill those children, but not me? What did he want with Kat? Hell, what did he want with me? He could have easily sent those soldiers out to find me and shoot me, but he went out of his way to make sure that he not only found me, but found me long before the others did. That shot his fired was just a decoy, he needed to convince the others that I was dead so they wouldn't continue looking for me. What was going on here?

I brought my focus again onto the snow outside. The gruesome memories of the children and their murder tried to take over my thoughts. The stone-like expressions of the children as they stared death in the face, the gun shots, the cracking of bones and spraying of blood. The screams. The screams that seemed to instantly change the children back human again. Their bravery only lasted them so long until they realized this was all real, then suddenly they were nothing but scared and helpless children.

The hollow howl of a wolf brought my attention back outside the cave. Several more joined into the song and the wind picked up, almost as if to sing with them. I had to stop thinking about them, what's past is past and no amount of worrying would bring them back. I instead tried to turn my thoughts to myself; I knew I wasn't going to survive out there, not for very long anyway, and if I wanted to make it through this, survive long enough to get back home, I really only had one option. I didn't like it, but I _had_ to figure out what was going on here. I had to go with my safest bet. I gripped tighter to the inside of the cloak.

I would have to find King James tomorrow.


	5. The Wolf

The Wolf

Thunder and heavy rain woke me up the next morning. The temperature was cold, but thankfully not freezing like it had gotten last night. There was still snow on the ground, but the rain was starting to melt it away, and patches of grass were starting to push through.

I pulled the hood up as I stepped outside. Nothing looked familiar during the day time and since the sun was being blocked by the rain clouds, I couldn't get any kind of idea what time it was or what direction I needed to go, or even what direction I was already going.

My thought process went like this: This is an island, and probably not a very big island. If I keep walking in one direction eventually I'll get to the ocean and I'll be able to orientate myself better from there. On top that, everyone came by foot, so where ever they came from, it's within walking distance.

I was at least able to tell from which direction I had come from last night, so I figured I'd go the opposite way and hope for the best.

I couldn't say exactly how many hours I walked, as I didn't know when I started, and by the time I came to the shoreline, the clouds were still heavy and dark and rain continued falling from the sky. I started to see breaks in the trees and hear a roar of ocean waves and the wind started to pick from, blowing in from the sea and I quickened my pace.

By now the cloak was heavy, completely drenched from the rain and being dragged in the snow and wet dirt, however the inside of the cloak was still warm and dry and though it slowed me down, it was better that I leave it on as my thin leather jacket wasn't going to hold up out there.

I pressed on, keeping in a straight line rather than turning down any of the paths I crossed. Of course this was the more difficult way to go, I was constantly tripping through mud puddles or getting snagged on low branches or bushes, but with this way I knew exactly where I was going. Soon I saw an opening through the trees and several yards away could actually see waves crashing down on the shores.

I pushed myself through the trees and practically fell in down in the sand. It felt so good to be out of the forest, I was beginning to feel claustrophobic in there. I walked down closer to the waterline to get a better view of the sky but when I got to the water's edge, it wasn't the sky that caught my attention anymore, it was the sea.

There was a bright blue glow coming from the foam. It washed up along the shore, and even highlighted waves rolling into the shoreline. I knelt down and swished my hand around in the water, which made it glow even brighter. I lifted up the cloak so it didn't drag behind me and walked through the surf, when I looked behind me I could still see my footprints in the sand which were now outlined with bright blue rings. I don't know what it was, but I just thought it was the coolest thing ever. It was like this all up and down the coast line, this soft blue light rolling with the waves.

The skies however, were still dark with clouds; out over the ocean it was much darker than back over the island, and from that I was able to figure out I was on the eastern shoreline and heading north. A huge mountain towered up above the forest, its peak shrouded by the low-laying storm clouds. To the south of me, there was nothing but the glowing surf, but to the north, I could see a faint golden glow over the horizon. Lights!

I trotted up the shoreline, trying to stay on the compacted sand. As I got closer I started to notice just where the tree line reached the beaches, there were lanterns. These couldn't have been made by any 'natives' on the island, they looked like old Victorian style street lamps and there was a line of them running all up the coast, leading me to the yellow glow. I diverted course and walked up to the other side of the beach, closer to the tree line to stay in the light.

'_I must be getting close,_' I thought.

And I was.

Just up ahead I saw a small cluster of lights, probably about a two miles up. Two miles is a long way to walk, but at the same time, these were lights, and lights mean people. I'd rather have people two miles away than nowhere in sight. I picked up my pace even more to keep myself moving, and keep warm, but as to not tire myself out and kept thinking to myself, '_I hope someone here can help me._'

As I walked up the shoreline the lanterns were placed closer together, giving off more light on the shores, and I could see the shapes of a town and the masts of tall ships. Soon the lanterns were only spaced a consistent six feet apart from each other, and I could see ahead of me a wooden staircase, lit by two lanterns on either side of the railings and leading up to a boardwalk set high above the sand. Next to the steps was a wooden sign, framed in ironwork with the following message:

_KING CHARLES HARBOUR_

_SOUTH GATE_

_EST 1911_

_O Lord Almighty in whose hand all victory rests and all war is destroyed. Grant me that thy hand may strengthen my heart so I may fight well and act courageously so my enemies may fall before my sight._

"Wow, that's not creepy or anything..." I said to myself. I looked up at the steps to the town. A gust of wind caught me and sent a chill down my back. I slid my hand up the wooden rail, damp with rain and snow, and walked up into the town.

Part of me was surprised there was no one walking around outside, but then again, given the weather, who would want to be walking around outside in this.

Victorian style street lamps and lanterns swinging from strings lit up the snow covered streets of the town. Many of the small houses and shops were half timber style buildings with decorative stained glass windows lit from the inside by flickering candles. Blue, black and white banners hung from the street lamps depicting rampant wolves which snapped in the wind. The breeze began to pick up, and I pulled the cloak tighter around me. The wind became stronger, blowing snow and rain into my face. I pulled the hood up over my head and ran to the nearest shop and stood under the eaves of the roof in an effort to stay dry. I had no idea where I was, no idea where I was even going and I was beginning to feel so cold my hands were going numb. The wind chilled my earrings, making my ears ache, and I couldn't for the life of me get my nose to stop running. I was almost surprised that my snot _didn't_ turn into icicles.

The wind changed directions and started to blow snow into my face. I pulled the hood down further and took a few steps back around the corner of the building to get out of the way. I moved backwards though, not expecting anything to be behind me, but my foot bumped into something sitting on the ground and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard this 'something' yell out. I jumped away, keeping my back pressed against the side of the building and looked down next to me.

He was just an old man, a ragged old man, reminded me of one of the homeless people I've seen while in the cities. All he had on were a pair of ripped pants, a torn shirt and a grey and stained woolen frock coat that was practically falling to pieces. His hands were black with frostbite and his bare feet were black and bleeding from the snow. I pulled the cloak closer to me and took a few steps away from him.

"I see you've returned..." he said in a cracking voice. He turned his head to look up at me, his left eye white with blindness and the tip of his nose frostbitten.

"Excuse me?"

"He said you'd come back..."

I inched away from the man, but he leaned over closer to me, twisting his head around in all sorts of odd directions.

"I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else... I need to get going..."

"Konik Soh!" he shouted, pointing a boney, black finger at me, "Konik said so."

I just shook my head and tried to turn away but a cold hand wrapped around my ankle, "Du Konik Soh! II inne nis! Du Konik Soh, Du Konik Gahii! Au ir! Au ir!"

Now I knew this man was talking nonsense, well, more like screaming it at me. I pulled away from him, but he made another grab at me and managed to trip me.

"Get the hell off me!"

" Du onne ir nega!" He pointed at the cloak.

I looked down at King James's cloak, "This? What about this?"

The old man recoiled in disgust and hissed at the cloak, "Wretched beast! The day he dies will be a blessing for us all! Oh but he won't. The very Hell we all fear would just spit him back out again! The God I know would never create such a _foul_ creature as he. What blaspheming whoreson who calls him himself a god, who threatens to overthrow the One Almighty! He is no god, but a _demon! _With the sly tongue of the Serpent himself. I'd say he were the Devil if the Devil wasn't afraid of him too. He is not of the divine, but a thing of the earth created from sin!" The man's one-eyed stare suddenly became unfocused and distant, "And in sin he created another..." He pointed his icy finger at me again, "...you..."

I shook my head, "No... You're out of your freaking mind!"

"The spawn of the beast himself! Oh to be trapped in such a filthy, earthly form!" the man started to scream wildly now, "Fly little bird, fly away from here!" He pulled a rusted dagger from inside his coat and made a swing at me. I scrambled to my feet and ran. As the man tried to stand up and follow me, he slipped on a patch of ice and fell on his face into the snow. I didn't bother to check if he was alright, I just took off running as fast as I could. His screams still rang out across the town.

I ran down the cobble stone street until I was out of breath, I practically slammed myself against the railing once I reached the boardwalk to stop myself, and to keep myself from slipping. The cold air made every breath I took burn my lungs and the rain hitting my face made the wind feel even colder.

"What the hell was _that_ about?" I leaned against the rail, trying to catch my breath. "There's something wrong with that guy!" I turned around to look down into the harbor. Four ships, that I could see, were docked there. Their cabin windows and port holes were all glowing with soft lights, so there were certainly people in these ships; the task was finding which one belonged to King James.

After I caught my breath, and made sure no one was following me, I walked down the boardwalk steps to the harbor docks. More street lamps lined the edge of the docks, casting an orange glow on the five ships. The first one I passed under was a gold and black painted galleon. A golden griffin rose up in a regal pose off the forecastle, its wings spread wide under the ship's bowsprit. The eyes were carved in a way that made it seem like it was following me as I walked across the dock. This was the _Wicked Griffin_.

The next ship was lit up by a lantern hanging from its figurehead. An angel, with flowing hair and a gossamer gown graced the front of the brig _Edgar Jex_ with a harp clutched against her breast and a lantern held out in front of her, guiding her way. Green and gold Celtic knot work decorated the sides of the hull and flying at the top of its main mast, the Irish tri-colors.

The ship next to that was _much_ larger. Painted in green and white with a large red dragon, wings spread wide across the bow, was the giant man-o-war, _Her Majesty's Dragon_. The _Dragon_ sported three gun decks and had a total of 90 guns; a second-rate man-o-war. This was the biggest ship docked here in this harbor, but as grand as it was, it just didn't seem like the ship I needed.

I passed by the _Dragon_ and on to the next slip where the last ship rocked quietly like a ghost. Red light flickered around the bow of this ship as it moved with the waves.

While the rest of the ships were well lit and brilliantly painted, this one was entirely black with a thick blue stripe running along her sides. She seemed to have a permanent shadow casted over her and was the only ship actually chained to the dock, like some wild animal; her heavy anchor chains clicked and rattled with her movements. I stared up at her bowsprit as I passed under; a wolf, frozen in time as it leaped off the bow. Pieces of blue glass were set into the wolf's eyes which flickered red in the dock lantern's light as the ship gently rocked in its slip. The gun ports were framed with wood carvings painted with a glossy white and blue, mimicking the appearance of ice and snow, while real snow powdered the tops of the ship's railings. Her black sails were rolled up and only one flag was flying; black and blue colours with a large white wolf head at its centre. Its mane flared out around its face and its ears pointed to look like devil horns. Light poured from the tall, blue windows of the stern quarters, and under the sound of the waves and tapping rain was the spinning melody of a harpsichord. Painted along her bow, in icy white letters was her name, _The Wolves of the Sea._

I nervously laughed to myself, "And here I thought I was looking for the _Jolly Roger_."

I hesitated for a moment before walking up the gangplank; the timbers of the ship creaked and moaned with the howling wind as if to say '_get back!_" and I felt the waves start to rock the planks of the dock. Even though I didn't see anyone on board keeping watch, I still felt like I had eyes all around me, probably due to all of the wolf heads on the gun port doors with their flickering glass eyes. I took hold of the rope railing, took a deep breath and walked up.

On deck, lanterns hung from the mast poles and sat at the end of the railings on the back staircase to the quarterdeck. Their blue glass casted a cold glow across the deck of the ship and when the wind picked up, it swirled the snow around like dancing ghosts. Towards the back of the ship were two doors on either side of the large staircase. Each door was held together with decorative iron work and the wolf design that was on the flag and gun ports was also on the doors as a three-dimensional iron centre-piece.

The somber melody of the harpsichord's song grew louder as I walked across the deck, closer to the back cabin. I reached the bottom of the staircase and stared up at the door, framed by two blue lanterns. From inside, a soft, but deep voice began to sing and I couldn't help but to stop and listen.

_"In the bleak Midwinter_

_Frosty winds may moan_

_Earth stood hard as iron_

_Water like a stone_

_Snow had fallen, snow on snow_

_Snow on snow on snow_

_In the bleak Midwinter_

_Long, long ago,"_

"Wow…" I whispered. The singing stopped, but the graceful song played on. I cautiously started up the staircase, focusing on the warm music emanating from the behind the cabin door and trying to stay as quiet as I could in the hopes I wouldn't miss the next part.

"_Desire lit inside me_

_As I walked through the snow_

_I went to the village_

_So I could buy a rose_

_Upon the sound of your name_

_The rose shattered before me_

_And now all I have is just_

_One petal for thee,"_

At the top, I stopped in front of the cabin door, a large iron wolf head stared back at me, however there were no eyes on this figure, so the rain water that ran down its nose were like tears falling from empty sockets. I rested my head and hand against the wolf and listened as the singing continued. There was such a comforting quality to the voice that I had almost forgotten how cold it was outside. For a moment the freezing rain and wind didn't bother me anymore.

"_What shall I give you_

_Poor as I am_

_If I were a shepherd_

_I would bring a lamb_

_If I were a wise-man_

_I would do my part_

_Yet what I can, I'll give you_

_I'll give you my heart,"_

I felt around the door for the handle. My hand was so cold I almost couldn't even feel it. I eventually found it and pushed the handle latch down with my thumb and tried to ease open the door but several heavy thuds rushing up the staircase brought me out of my trance and I quickly turned around. A short bearded man in a grey wool coat with pistol in hand was bounding up the stairs after me and before I even had time to realize what was happening, he shoulder checked me into the door. The back of my head hit the iron wolf and I fell down. He grabbed the front clasps of the cloak and pulled me back up, then slammed my back into the door again and pressed the pistol to my head.

"Wot the 'ell you think you're doin' up here, boy?"

"No, no, it's okay, I need to see King James…" The man was pressing against my neck so hard I could barely breathe.

"He don't want nothin' ta' do with you. Now you git! He wants no visitors this time 'a night!" He threw me down on the floor. "If I see ya on this ship again I'll blow ya brains out, aye?"

I was scared to get up because I didn't want him throwing me down the steps. I stayed down until he took a few steps back away. It took everything in me to jump up as fast as I did and latch back onto the cabin door.

"You sneaky son of a…"

I pushed the door open and allowed myself to fall inside. The man gave me a shove and I fell back down on the floor. A heavy weight pinned me down and once again, the barrel of the pistol was at my head.

"I got him, Sir! I'll blow his bloody brains out, I will! He thought he was bein' sneaky but I…"

"MR. SMEE!" The music stopped and an inhuman roar erupted from the back corner of the cabin and the man on top of me froze.

"Y-y-y-yes, Sir…"

"Get off of him _at once!_"

Mr. Smee pulled the gun away from my face and stood up. I lifted my head up and noticed that there was a small puddle of blood on the floor. I had fallen so hard that I bit my lip and was bleeding.

"This is no way to treat one of my guests. I wanted you to keep watch, not murder everyone who comes on board." I couldn't actually see King James from where I was laying, but I recognized his voice.

"I-I-I didn't know you were expecting company, Sir. I…"

"No matter, I will take it from here, Mr. Smee."

"B-but Sir."

"_It's fine, Mr. Smee_." He was beginning to become more annoyed.

"I-I didn't…"

"That means _leave_ Mr. Smee!" King James' usual smooth voice came out as a harsh growl.

"Aye, Sir…" and with that he shuffled out of the cabin and pulled the door closed behind him.

The floorboards creaked as King James took a few steps over and his shadow casted down over me. When I rolled over and looked up at him he smirked and raised an eyebrow,

"Need a hand, mate?"

"I think so, yeah…"

"I have _one_ I can give," He smiled at me and reached for my hand with his and pulled me up off the floor.

"My apologies about that, dear, my bo'sun's an idiot."

I put my hand up over my mouth to catch any blood that dripped,

"It's okay. Not the first time today this happened." When I looked up at him, the first thing I noticed was his bright blue eyes. It could have been just the orange candle light of the cabin, but his eyes had such a lively glow to them, his whole face did. He no longer had that cold, cadaverous appearance from last night, now he actually looked like he was alive, and dare I say it; he was smiling, though his smile only lit up half of his face.

All of his hair was pulled into a ponytail, which reached down to his waist, and was tied in front of his left shoulder. This time, rather than white, he was dressed a long black robe. He wore just a simple silver bead pierced through his lip, rather than the heavy talon from last night, and a pair of oval lens glasses rested on the tip of his nose. It was the end of the day, he wasn't trying to impress anyone, he was just trying to be comfortable, but even then, he was still impressive to look at. Probably having something to do with the fact he was so tall, which was further exaggerated by how thin he was.

His smiled faded when he noticed the blood dripping down my hand and pulled it away from my mouth.

"What did you do, bite your tongue?"

"My lip."

"Oh… I know how _that_ feels." He raised an eyebrow at me. He was referring to when I head-butt him in the face just the night before.

"Yeah, sorry about that…"

"No worries mate. Go take a seat in front of the fire, I'll get something to clean that up for you."

"No, it's fine, I don't wanna bother you or anything. I only came here to give you back this and then leave." I took the cloak off and threw it over my arm to give back to him.

"Leave?" he laughed, "No! Go sit by the fire and warm up. I wouldn't kick you out on a night like this!"

He smiled again, and nudged my shoulder, directing me to fireplace.

As I walked over to the back of the cabin, I looked around. There were so many things that caught my attention that it was hard to focus on just one. Yes, the outside of the ship looked cold and terrifying, but the inside had a warm and welcoming appearance.

The windows of the cabin were made of bottle glass; the panels were made up of circles that looked like the bottoms of glass bottles and varied in their shades of blue and festive red banners with gold trims and embroidery hung in front of the beams between each window.

The back wall was lined with two large book cases, and at the centre of them was a wide, roaring fireplace. The mantle was carved so that it looked like a snarling demon, with fire licking from its mouth and eyes were cut away on either corner so that they too, glowed with light.

Above the fireplace hung the crest of the _Wolves of the Sea_. A blue shield bearing three, silver rampant wolves was held in between two larger wolves, and underneath, a banner that read, '_Tempus Conglaciat_'. A very fitting motto for the ship.

_' Time has Frozen Over '_

In front of the fireplace were two Victorian style chairs. Their wooden frames were painted gold and their cushions were a ruby red with the wolf design from the flag embroidered on the backs.

I almost made it to the chairs but I stopped when I saw what was guarding them. Lying in front of the fireplace was a large, grey and white dog. He almost looked like a husky, but he was a lot bigger and had a fuller mane and tail which was sweeping slowly side to side. His ears were perked up and his gold eyes stared into mine.

"Uhh, hi dog…" I walked a little more slowly now. The dog's tail began to wag faster and once I reached the chair and sat down, he sprang up and began sniffing at my pants. I put my hand down to pet him and he lifted his nose up, licked me a few times, then went back to sniffing. At least I knew he was friendly.

"Oh my goodness, a visitor! I know, he's so fascinating! You just have to smell everywhere he's been and not leave him alone, don't you?" I couldn't help but to laugh at King James' overly enthusiastic, and sarcastic, narrative to his dog. He had a light, but brisk walk as he came over to me from across the cabin; he brought with him a small white piece of cloth in his hand. When he reached me he knelt next to the chair and handed me the cloth for my lip. He then grabbed the dog's collar to pull him away,

"I'm so sorry, is he bothering you?"

"Nah, he's fine. Just very excited." I reached down to pet him again with my free hand, but the dog jumped up on my lap and tried licking my face. At this point King James pulled his collar to get him off me,

"Do you mind?" He asked. The dog simply looked over at him then gave him a quick lick across the mouth.

"Oh, Rogue!" He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his robe, "Gross!" He gave Rogue a light shove to the side and then turned his attention towards me, "How's your lip, mate?"

"I think it stopped bleeding," I pulled the cloth away from my mouth; there wasn't as much blood as there was earlier, just a few little spots.

"It looks like it's at least slowing down. You'll be fine, it's just a nip." He stood back up and looked down at Rogue, who was patiently sitting in front of me, tongue out, panting and playfully wagging his tail. "As for you, ya little monster..."

Rogue snapped his mouth closed and his ears pointed, but only for a moment. After Rogue realized he wasn't in any real trouble, he started to wag is tail again and pant, his lips pulled back in a wide grin.

"Just push him and tell him to piss off if he's annoying you."

"He's fine right now."

"The moment I turn my back, though, he's going to jump up again, watch him."

Sure enough, King James was right. As soon as he turned away Rogue stood up and jumped back up on me again, sniffing furiously at my shirt. I tried to push him off, but his nose tickled and I was laughing so hard I just quit. If he got all his 'sniffing' out of his system I figured maybe he'd stop, so I let him do his thing and after he was satisfied that I wasn't a threat, or food, he calmed down and plopped down next to the fireplace again.

King James returned a second time, but now with a pewter tankard and set it down on the little table next to my chair and right away I began to smell chocolate.

"And I will join you in just a tick... as soon as I find where I put my wine..." He slowly scanned the cabin then pointed over to his harpsichord and trotted over to it, "I'd lose my _shadow_ if it wasn't attached, I swear to you!" He joked.

Steam rose up from out of the mug and I lifted it up and took a look inside. Just as I thought; hot chocolate. I wrapped both hands around the tankard, tried taking my first sip, and as expected, I burnt my mouth. I tried taking a second sip, then a third, but kept flinching each time. I heard King James laugh from behind me,

"Just don't learn do you?" He said, returning back to the fireplace and setting his wine glass on the table next to his chair. My blunt response of "nope," made him smile.

He let himself collapse into the Victorian style armchair and he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"Oh my God…" he breathed, "It's nice to finally sit down and relax."

"_Yeah, must be nice._" I was being a bit sarcastic, but wasn't trying to sound like a jerk.

"Hope you didn't have any trouble finding the place..."

"No, not really. Only walked all day in freezing rain and snow, almost got stabbed by a screaming hobo then got body slammed into a door and held at gunpoint.. twice. Nah, I'd say it was pretty easy." _Now_ I was being sarcastic.

"Screaming hobo?" King James chuckled, "What was he screaming about?"

"I dunno, something about demons and 'Konigsol', or something."

King James raised an eyebrow, "What was that last part?"

"Konigsol? I don't even think I'm saying that right."

"Konik Soh." He corrected, "Two words. It's Pique, the Piccaninny language." He took a sip of wine, "Not sure why he'd call you that though."

"Is that a bad thing?"

He shrugged, "Not really. I know I've certainly been called worse. It's nothing you need to worry yourself with."

"Alright, I'll take your word for it..."

"There's been a lot of tension in the Harbour for quite some time now. Don't let that scare you away though, it's a lovely little town, but even we have our problems every now and again."

"What kind of problems?"

"The Natives have been... _restless_ lately. Attacks on both the Harbour and up in Port Victoria have become more frequent and more violent. And of course, anything that happens here, it's all put on my shoulders. So things have been, yes, a little _rough_ these past few days."

"Like last night?"

"Last night? Oh God, I wish I could forget last night!" He paused for a moment and took a slow breath, "I didn't get any sleep at all last night when I got back... I couldn't." His voice got softer and almost seemed to trail off.

His answer surprised me, "So, you didn't want to kill those kids?"

"_What?_ No, not if I could have helped them. But they were beyond saving at that point. There was nothing we could do for them except put them out of their misery."

"Saving them from what?"

"From Peter." He straightened himself out in his chair and looked more directly at me, "He brings children here, enticing them with stories of adventures, and flying, and never having to grow up or have any responsibilities. And children, being children and only understanding the short term of things, they follow him here. Some of these children are simply looking to explore something new, while for others, this is an escape. They come from broken homes and abusive families and when an opportunity presents itself, well of course they take it. Anything to get away. It's sad really. Some of these children are coming from one dangerous place to another without ever realizing the mistake they're making."

"I didn't realize Neverland was so bad."

"It can be an absolute nightmare. You know," he took a quick sip of his wine, "I'm actually surprised you made it this far. I thought last night would have been the last time I ever saw you."

"Trust me, I thought I was dead too."

"No, I'm serious. That cavern you were in was a Piccaninny burial mound. If anyone would have found you in there they would have killed you on the spot."

My mouth fell open and I almost dropped the mug in my lap, "_What?_ Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to, but I figured it would have been better not to mention anything and upset you further. It's rare anyone goes in there, so it was _actually_ safer for you to have stayed in there that night than to run out and risk getting shot by one of my men, or worse, attacked by those Lost Children."

"Yeah, what _was_ with those kids last night? I noticed they seemed really... off, it was a little creepy... Okay, it was really creepy."

"_Those_ were Lost Children."

"I don't follow... "

"They've lost themselves."

I shook my head, "I'm still missing something, I'm sorry."

King James rolled his eyes at me, "That's right, you're new here. Well, to explain it the best way that I can for you, think of it like this; the imagination is the easiest place to get lost in. You can do anything, you can be anyone, you have complete freedom there. The Neverland works in the same way, except being that this is real life so in turn, there are consequences for what you do. When children come here Peter fills their heads with these ideas that they're able to do anything and it's like a dream come true for them. Just about anything they can imagine can become a reality. That's how they're able to fly, they simply believe that they can, and with a bit of extra fairy dust, they're off. That's all it takes.

So the children begin to become the people that they _think_ they are, and over time, they lose who they _really_ are. They forget where they came from, their family, their friends back home, everything that made them _who_ they are is forgotten until eventually there's nothing left of who they once were.

By allowing themselves to forget everything and everyone, they're destroying themselves. It's the events that happen in your life that guide you and shape you into the person you are today. If all of those events are forgotten, well then who are you? What are you? You're nothing.

It's been said by some people that these children lose their very souls, leaving nothing but a shell of their former selves, and judging by the things I've experienced, I would almost have to agree with them."

"So what ends up happening to these kids?"

"Depends on how far they've gone. Some can still be saved and are taken back home. But the ones that can't be saved, and can't be brought back have to be killed. There's no other way to help them, unfortunately. I don't like doing it, I'd rather _not_ do it, but it seems to be the duty bestowed upon me here. I almost don't have a choice. The people who don't understand look at me and say 'how can you do this, how can you kill these innocent children?' You can't think of them as children, not anymore. Innocent, yes. But certainly _not_ children. So I'm left with a choice; I can either kill them now or allow them to suffer further."

"But wait, if there's in their little 'imaginary world', how are they suffering?"

"Those children decay from the inside out until they're nothing but basic survival instincts who can do nothing but growl and bite. Yes they're happy at first, but over time it wears off. The game isn't fun anymore and they want to stop, but they can't. This is who they are now, they can't go back to who they were, because the person they once were no longer exists. Outside of their 'imaginary world' as you called it, they have nothing. To live indefinitely with no conceivable purpose, no past, no future, nothing. To me that's suffering."

"Okay, I'm always up for a riveting conversation myself. I'll ask you this; is it still 'suffering' if the children don't know that they're suffering? Okay, so if they lose all sense of reality, how do they know they're say, 'choosing the wrong option', if they don't know that there's a better option out there? Hold on..." I knew what I wanted to say, I just couldn't get it to come out right. I felt like I was just talking in circles and not making sense, "If they've forgotten everything, how do they know what they've lost? Boom, there it is! That's what I wanted to say."

King James laughed. He didn't have to think very long to give me an answer, "It's a gradual decline. At first everything is great, they love it here. But then things start to sink in, they're never going to see their families or their homes again and they begin to feel sad, or scared. After that is where the separation happens. They either continue missing their homes, and over time become weaker, which is when they either die on their own or end up getting killed, or they become stronger and are able to take care of themselves.

The children who wanted to leave in the first place, they forget much sooner, but for the children that don't want to leave or have second thoughts, they're the ones that get depressed, and scared and want to go home. Sometimes all it takes is a little reminder to bring them back, but after they've reached a certain point, there's nothing you can do. You can't pull something from nothing. These are the children that are particularly dangerous because they're the ones that think this is all a game. They're the ones that come into our towns and kill people, and light homes on fire, and kidnap children and torture them out in the forest because 'it's all pretend'. It's all make believe to them. When they kill you, they expect you to get right back up again and when you don't they shrug it off and go find someone else to play with without the slightest thought that they've done something horribly wrong. They live without a conscience, they live without feeling. Remember how last night those children didn't feel cold standing out there in the snow? That's a clear way to tell. What once made them human is gone now. That's what it means to be Lost."

I paused for a moment, my tankard of hot chocolate still in my hands, trying to take in everything that King James had told me.

"Shit just got deep..."

I said this not realizing that he was taking a sip of his wine and I made him laugh. He probably wasn't expecting such a blunt response. He quickly set his wine glass on the table and put his hand over his mouth and nodded,

"Yes!" he choked, "There's a lot more going on than just what's on the surface."

"So you need to have a pretty good handle on who _you_ are..."

"Or the Neverland will claim you."

I didn't say anything right away, I really didn't have anything more to say, it was so much to take in. I just slowly looked down into my hot chocolate and sighed, "I sure hope there's alcohol in this..." I could tell just by the way King James smiled at me he knew exactly what I was talking about.

"I do have whiskey..."

"Don't tell me that," My mind was already shattered to pieces as it was, I didn't need to get trashed on top of it. "And this is something that can happen to anyone..?" I asked.

"Right, however children are more susceptible to falling into this trap because they don't know otherwise. Peter insists that it's alright and as long as those children stay with Peter, it _is_ alright, unless they break one of Peter's rules of course, with which there are grave consequences. The big one being 'no growing up'."

"But that's impossible, how can you stop yourself from growing up?"

"Like I said earlier, if you believe it, it becomes real. Age is all in your head, if you don't believe you're getting older, then you won't. There are children who have been here almost as long as I have. And they're still _children_."

"And if you _do_ grow up. What can happen?"

"Peter has ways of 'thinning the herd' if need be. He's much more clever than people give him credit for. A question for you though, my dear; do you have anything on you that reminds you of home?"

I thought it was a rather odd question to bring up, but I still thought about it. I looked down at my clothes; my blue Griffon t-shirt from Busch Gardens I had gotten back in 2007 and a pair of white Tripp pants that were now covered with mud and grass stains. I shrugged,

"My shirt, I guess?"

"Make sure you don't lose that then." He said. "That could be just enough to get you out of here with your sanity intact."

"So, anything to remind me of home?"

"Remind you of home, of a loved one, of a friend, a place, _anything._ A little can go a long way here. Like for me," he lifted up one of his many pendants he wore around his neck; a tiny pearl cylinder topped with a silver cap.

"It's this. This holds a lock of hair from my aunt. She was the one who raised me, and was really the only person who stayed by me my entire life when the rest of my family essentially disowned me because of my 'career choice'."

I tried so hard not to appear shocked or disturbed by that, I didn't want King James to think I was being disrespectful, but then again it was just something that you don't see very often these days, and I think he understood that, at least I hope so. I know I made some sort of disgusted face, and I know he saw me, but he didn't mention it.

"This is my reminder, among other things from home that I have." He smoothed the chains around his neck, which were so tangled up in each other they were practically now just one big necklace. On one chain was a silver wolf head, and on another a tiny glass bottle which was about half full of a white, sparkling powder that gave off a very faint green glow. The one that really caught my attention though was a simple cylinder of glass which contained a tiny flower, still on its stem and bright electric blue in colour; in fact, it was the same shade of blue as King James's eyes. This was the only pendant not on a chain like the others, but instead hung from a black velvet cord.

"What kind of flower is that? I just noticed it." I asked, pointing at the pendant. It was so small I found it hard to keep my eye on it.

"A Forget-me-not," he smiled and closed his fingers around the pendant. "A close friend of mine gave this to me as a Christmas present...a very long time ago." His voice trailed off.

"Because it matches your eyes?"

"You know, _everyone_ says that. My God, there have been countless passages written down over time _just_ about my eyes. Annoying really. But no, actually the forget-me-not is a mourning flower and is worn by someone who lost a loved one, particularly a child."

James placed the little flower back down on its resting spot on his chest, his hand still covering it.

"So you wear that for the children who die here?"

He paused for a moment, as if he was trying to think of the proper answer.

"Some people believe that." he said. "But these are the little things that keep me from losing my mind. So far so good I think, but even on occasion I find myself slipping, especially when you've been called by the wrong name for so many years."

"You mean you're not..."

"Hook?" He raised his right arm and the sleeve of his robe rolled down to his elbow exposing just his thin wrist. His eyes shifted over to it with a slightly annoyed expression on his face. He then let his arm fall back onto the chair's armrest, "Doesn't have the same effect when I'm not wearing it." He chuckled.

"I actually didn't even realize you weren't wearing it." Honestly, I never thought to look at his arm. I only paid attention to left hand because that was the one he used the whole time. I never even noticed the empty sleeve.

"It's a bit late to be wearing it now." He rubbed his arm and pulled it in close to his chest, "It's been bothering me for the past few weeks. It's because of this damn weather, I know it. As soon as it gets cold out, it acts up."

"Did it not heal right or something?" I saw that the end of his wrist was uneven; one of the bones of his forearm was a bit longer than the other one and was stretching the skin out from underneath. I'll admit, it did make me feel a little grossed out.

"No, it healed fine, as fine as it could anyway. It's just sometimes it hurts, and sometimes it _really_ hurts. Like it is now. It feels like my arm is filled with needles."

"I couldn't deal with that all the time. I don't know how that doesn't bother you."

He nodded, "Oh, it bothers me, but it's something I've learned to live with. You know, I found this to be awfully strange and it's going to sound bizarre, but it still feels like I have a hand there."

I almost couldn't believe it, how could you feel something that's not there anymore?

"Really!" he insisted, almost seeming quite proud of himself, "I can still move it and everything." He raised his arm and even though he didn't have a hand to move, I could see the muscles of his arm working under his skin as he moved them. I certainly wouldn't label myself as squeamish, but seeing that just grossed me out even more. Though, he was just so nonchalant about not having a hand. It didn't faze him at all, but then again, living for a hundred years without a hand, I'm sure one would grow used to it.

But it still had _me_ creeped out.

"So like, have you ever tried to grab something with your... uh... not-hand?" I wasn't sure if calling it a 'stump' would have offended him. It didn't occur to me until _after_ I asked the question that even _that_ could have been offensive too. Instead, James just squinted is eyes and chuckled,

"Funny you say that, I actually have. Oh, I _still_ do it. I swear to you, it's like I forget. It's the strangest thing." He leaned back in his chair again and crossed his legs at the knee,

"If anything though, it's the cold that always bothers me, every year. Which is a shame, because I love the cold, I love the snow, I love everything about this season. Well, everything except this damn pain in my arm. Oh well…" He smiled and took one last sip of his wine, "I guess I'm just getting old, huh?"

I shrugged, "Maybe?" I almost said 'yes' but stopped myself. I didn't want to sound insulting.

King James stood up and stretched his arms over his head, causing his robe to spread open. All he wore underneath were a pair of loose fitting black and white striped pants that reached down to the floor. I almost couldn't believe how thin he was; when he leaned back you could have counted each of his ribs and his waist was so small that his hip bones looked like they were ready to poke through his skin. He had a tattoo on his right hip of a black stingray, its tail rose up his side and curled into a hook just as it reached his chest.

"That's pretty cool," I said, nodding at it.

"This?" He looked down at the tattoo and started to laugh again, "Oh, what were we just talking about? _Pain?_ Yes, he really hurt me, couldn't sleep on my belly for almost a month. Do _not_ recommend it."

"Why a stingray?"

"You know, a few years back I heard someone call me the 'steel-handed stingray' and really liked the sound of it, so that's why I got him. Why I got him on my hip, I'm still trying to figure out _that_ mistake. I have these god-awful child bearing hips, so why I decided to draw even _more_ attention to them, I'll never know. But I suppose he doesn't look half bad here."

I knew where that name had come from, but I didn't know who else would have known about that, or who else _could_ have known that. It was a detail that I kept in the back of my head.

This wasn't the only tattoo he had. I noticed a small four diamond pattern on his middle finger, as well as on the right side of his neck and on the upper right side of his chest. He also had something written on his right wrist, just above his injury, but I couldn't get a good look at it because he was either moving his arm or the sleeve of his robe was covering it.

"I almost can't believe how tired I am this evening. Suppose it's all just hitting me now from being out all last night."

I took a final gulp of my hot chocolate and stood up, "Did you want me go?"

"Go?" he asked, "Go where? Not back outside I hope."

"Oh yeah, forgot about that..." I didn't really have any place _to_ go.

"You're more than welcome to spend the night here if you'd like."

"You sure about that? I don't want to be a bother to you or anything."

"If I wasn't sure I wouldn't have offered."

"True. Where could I sleep?"

He nodded towards a large couch at the other side of the cabin and waited for me to notice it. The couch had plush, red velvet cushions and Victorian curves.

"Shall I fetch you a blanket then?"

"Okay, I'm sold."

"Excellent!"

As I walked over to the couch Rogue stood up and began to follow me,

"Looks like you have a friend," King James said.

I scratched Rogue on the head and his ears twitched. As soon as I sat down on the couch he stuck his nose in my face and tried to lick me.

"Get off him Rogue! Bloody traitor." James came back over with a large wool blanket. It was a plaid, mostly blue but with some red and green and in one of the corners I noticed an embroidery of a crest with a dragon and the words 'God Send Grace' around the outside.

I took my coat and boots off and slid them under the couch and tried to make myself comfortable under the heavy blanket,

"At least I know I'll be warm."

"My aunt made that for me when I was leaving for Eton. It's gotten me through plenty of cold nights." James told me. He knelt down next to me and scratched Rogue on the back of his neck.

"I haven't seen him this chipper in days," he told me, "His sister passed away just two days ago." At this mention Rogue leaned back and looked up at James with his bright golden eyes. "I know we're both still tender about it."

"How'd she die?"

"Out on a hunt, unfortunately. Such a companion like her should have died of old age. But no, she was shot in the chest with a Piccaninny arrow, there was nothing that could be done after that."

"Couldn't just pull it out, huh?"

He shook his head, "No. I take it you've never seen a Piccaninny arrow before, they have several large barbs on their sides so pulling them out only does more harm than good. She was a Great Dane named Gypsy. Her and Rogue were almost the same size."

"What's Rogue?" I noticed he looked nothing like a Great Dane.

"He's a Never Wolf, his species is only found here on this island. I found him when he was a pup out in the forest. Amazing how an adorable baby animal can turn even the most seasoned gentleman of war into a bumbling mess." James finally smiled and gave Rogue a rough scratch on his head, "And now I'm stuck with the little bastard!"

He stood up and straightened out his back, I heard a couple muffle pops as he stood up, and by the look on his face, I could tell he heard them too.

"42's not old," he mumbled to himself, and smiled, "I just have to keep telling myself that."

"Wow, I thought you were in your _late_ forties!" I didn't realize what I said until after I had said it and immediately froze in my spot.

He narrowed his eyes at me, "Thank you..."

"Sorry! I didn't mean you looked _old_, you just look _older_..." I know I was not helping my case at all.

"I think for a 139 I look pretty damn good."

I didn't t say anything, but he could tell I wanted to,

"I've been around a long time, mate."

"Yeah, I'd say you look pretty good for a 139..."

"Wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have all this," he slid his hand across the left side of his face, rubbing his scar.

"How'd you get that, anyway?"

"That's a story for another day." I noticed his voice got noticeably softer. "Good night." Just as he was about to get up and leaved I called him back into the conversation again,

"Hey dude!"At first he paused and raised an eyebrow at me, "Oh crap, sorry, I don't know how to properly address you..."

"James is fine, dear." he chuckled, thankfully he didn't seem to take offence to it. Some people are picky with their titles.

"Do you know how to get me home?"

He paused for a moment before answering, "I can. It's just a shame you're here at an off time. Yuletide is right around the corner and I'm certainly not going to miss that. But afterwards, yes, I can definitely see to it that you get home. I don't want you staying here longer than necessary."

"How long is Yuletide?"

"The Twenty First to the second of January, it's twelve days. Trust me, you'll want to stay. And don't be afraid to wake me up if you need anything." He smiled at me and drew the conversation to a close.

He walked around the cabin, blowing out each candle that hung from the wall, one by one, and the light in the cabin slowly faded around the room. The only light that remained came from the fireplace, and even that didn't look like it was going to last much longer.

Rogue curled up in front of the couch, just at arm's reach; he was probably hoping I would pet him. It didn't take long for me to fall asleep, my hand resting on Rogue's shoulder.

I don't know how long I was asleep for, there was no way for me to tell the time, but I'm sure it had to have been a few hours as the fire had almost completely died away in the fireplace at this point. I rolled over on my back and looked out the window. Not that I could really see anything out of the bottle glass panes, but some of the light from the dock torches shown through.

No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't get back to sleep; I was probably tossing around for an hour. Eventually, I decided to get up and look around the cabin a bit. I really didn't have anything better to do.

One of the first places I went to was the bookshelf behind James' desk, mainly because of the three candles that were left lit, giving off the only light in the cabin. My intentions were focused solely on the books but a few things on the desk caught my attention. The first one being his hook.

The hook itself had a bit of a square shape to it and rather than a round curve, and was flat with a sharpened inside edge. The hook sat in a metal, faceted base which was riveted onto a black leather sleeve. A full shoulder harness was connected with brass rivets and was made of the same leather as the sleeve. This leather wasn't cow or swine leather, but instead it had a very bumpy texture, like tiny little beads and was somewhat thin, and very pliable. It was stingray skin.

Several maps of the island were spread across the desk top, marking out territories and Piccaninny encampments while a few others showed the coasts of England and another, this surprised me, was of Florida with several ports marked, Tampa being one of them. Off to the side of the desk, just under the candle holder was a stone ashtray sitting on top of a black, leather bound book. I set the ashtray aside and slid the book over to me. Carefully, I opened to one of the middle pages and skimmed through the writing,

_"Commodore Yale and I took a small crew to the Jaguar House in Ebony to investigate stories surrounding the Playgrounds. Several Powers had claimed they had found it while on a hunt through the Ebony Forest, but were unable to relocate the exact spot again. 30 of the 75 Dragonmen were sent to stay with the Jaguar House and take groups of both Arch Angels and Powers to grid the forest."_

I skipped a head a few more pages,

_"I couldn't bring myself to say 'good-bye'. Instead I left him with just a hug and an apology."_

I then flipped a few pages back and read another line,

"_Oh, but the things mother's do mean nothing._"

Highly intrigued, I flipped back to the beginning of the entry, it was dated _25, December 1990_.

"_The strangest thing happened to me last night. Certainly not entirely strange, strangely beautiful I should say, though some may disagree. I feel the need to document this event while still fresh in my mind, as they're just as important as anything else that happens in this place._

_As it was Christmas Eve, and being a bit restless, I chose to pass the night through a book, not expecting to be bothered. Gypsy and Rogue were already fast asleep, helping themselves to my bed, as what's a comfortable bed without a little dog hair, right? They probably thought they were being courteous._

_Just as I was wrapping up a chapter, a knock on my door broke my concentration and had startled the dogs. Rather than getting up, I invited the guest in from my chair, not really wanting to leave the warmth of the fireplace._

_The guest was Alice Grimm, a courtesan of mine whom I haven't seen since early March. She was smiling, in her red velvet cape speckled with Christmas snow, and in her arms-_"

A hand slammed down on the book, covering its pages. The movement was so sudden I actually jumped. James stood at the other side of the desk, his long, wavy hair hanging down both sides of his face created dark shadows in the hollows of his cheeks and orange spots flickered in his eyes with the candle light.

"You don't want to read that," he purred. He had a sharp bite to his voice which accompanied his demonic appearance.

"I don't?"

"No. You don't." Without breaking eye contact, he flipped the book closed and slid it back towards him across the desk.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know what it was."

"Quite alright, my dear. Just don't let it happen again."

"Okay... It won't."

"Good. Now, I think it would be best if you went back to sleep."

"Yeah... okay."

I started to walk back towards the couch but about half way I stopped and turned back to James,

"Hey, James. I'm sorry."

"Oh, no, my dear, it's alright, you didn't know." He started to sound more like his usual self as he slid the book onto one of the shelves behind his desk. "No harm done."

"No, I mean for whatever happened to you."

He paused for a moment and I noticed his shoulders drop a bit. He slowly turned to look back at me, a new expression on his face now, a sad one, a very sad one.

He didn't say anything, he only nodded. As he turned to go back to bed, I noticed he raised his hand to his chest and held onto his forget-me-not necklace.

I laid back down on the couch and pulled the blanket up to my chin. I suddenly became very interested in what he had written in that book.


End file.
